Of Rum and Consequences
by sittinginawheel
Summary: AU starting from the Season 3 finale. Hook swore to Emma that his rum-ridden past self wouldn't remember what happened that night on the ship. What if past-Hook wasn't as drunk as they hoped him to be?
1. Chapter 1

"Are you _kidding_ me?" Emma shouted, coloured with disbelief. "How is _that_ not going to have consequences?"

"He was asking for it," Killian replied calmly, briefly admiring his handiwork. "And like I said, he'll blame the rum. Now, let's get out of here."

Emma paused for a moment to look at the passed out pirate on the floor.

As much as she had appreciated her Killian intervening, as the issue of reuniting her parents had become even more crucial, _this_ Killian proved to be a more welcome distraction. Though it was slightly uncomfortable having an audience watching them, she couldn't deny the invisible pull she felt for the man when the familiar set of lips pressed against hers once more. Or technically, for the first time.

As quickly as the moment came, it passed within the same instant. Emma pulled herself out of her reverie and climbed up onto the deck, then out towards the forest, ignoring a distressed Smee muttering about vests. If she and Killian couldn't right her mistake soon, it could have irreversible effects on the future. It would be pretty hard to be a saviour if you would have never been born.

* * *

"You have to drink the potion," Emma pleaded through her tears as her body was pulled towards the cold, swirling vortex. "You have to forget everything I just told you."

Emma knew that she could never forget the look in Rumple's eyes the moment before he let her go; the loss of a child. His son. It was the son that he had been desperately seeking in order to make amends, and in that point of time, the only thing that was pushing him to carry on in that realm. His love for him was so strong that he was willing to help the Dark Curse be enacted, just to have the chance of reuniting with the one whom he had wronged so many times. It reminded Emma of when she first met Henry.

She had tried to reason with herself, a countless number of times since their first few months together, that fairytales were just that; make believe stories. Henry was right all along about the people of Storybrooke. They were all from a different land. Emma didn't blame herself for not believing him at first. After all, who would believe a ten year old if he told you that Snow White and the seven dwarves really exist? No, she blamed herself for thinking he was crazy, a troubled child, whatever they wanted to label it as. At first, she just went along with it, thinking she could help him out of some phase he was having.

Although Emma could have spent an age dwelling upon moments of the past, a more urgent issue suddenly consumed her thoughts.

The portal pulled her through at such an immense speed that she couldn't help but to keep her eyes shut. The rumbling sound assaulted her ears. All she could do was grit her teeth and hope for it to be over soon. She wasn't one for making a fuss over her appearance, but she could already imagine the hellish time that these winds would cause for her hair later.

* * *

After what felt like hours of fear and falling, much unlike the first time Emma had been dragged into another dimension, Emma's journey finally came to an abrupt halt. Oddly enough, she was in a sitting, upright position.

"Holy crap," Emma grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Let's agree to never go back in time again, okay? It gives me an awful migraine."

Emma slowly blinked her eyes open and frowned as she took in her surroundings. She'd expected the portal to take her back to the time and place where she had disappeared, as if she and Killian had never left Storybrooke to begin with, but this wasn't the barn. Heck, this wasn't even Storybrooke. The unusually modern furniture and view of the New York City skyline was a dead giveaway that this was her old apartment.

Confused, Emma stared at the cupcake sitting on the kitchen surface directly in front of her. A star-shaped candle was placed in the swirled frosting. Wisps of smoke dance from the small flame as the wax begins to drip.

"A cupcake," Emma mumbled, "I haven't had one of those since—"

As soon as the thought had crossed her mind, she looked down at herself. Her hair was noticeably shorter, and a lot curlier than it usually is. She modelled a pink dress fitted down to her knees, restricting her movement. She was dressed as though she was meeting with one of her old clients.

Her clutch. It would have her phone in.

She snatched it up from the counter and emptied the contents onto it. Luckily, she has a preceding reputation of packing lightly, so her cell was found within seconds. After confirming her suspicions, she quickly changed into her trademark red leather jacket and jeans. As soon as she had, she raced back towards the nearly burnt out candle. While briefly closing her eyes, she blew out the flame.

Even though she was half expecting it, a part of Emma was still in disbelief when she heard the doorbell ring. She had been hoping that she had been making some mistake.

"Kid," she breathed, examining the cherub-faced Henry. "You're a kid."

Henry frowned as he looked up at her. "Yes, I am just a kid, but I was hoping that you could help me with something."

Emma gaped as he let himself into the apartment with an oversized backpack on. The last time she had seen it on him; he was a foot taller with a deeper voice. At the moment, it looked a little comical on him.

"My name is Henry," he started, "and I have—"

"Kid, I know who you are," Emma interrupted, finally closing the front door and kneeling down in front of him. "And I know why you're here."

"You do?" Henry's face dropped. "How did you find out? Was it my mom?"

Before she opened her mouth to speak, Emma paused to quickly reflect on what she knew herself before bringing her son into it.

She didn't know how she was transported back here, or why. Emma was supposed to arrive back at Storybrooke with Killian, in a barn, surrounded by a bunch of weird symbols that first started the whole time travelling business. All she knew was that in one minute, she was going through a portal with Killian and the woman they had saved, and the next, she was back to celebrating her not-so-lonely 28th birthday.

Another thing that began bothering Emma was that if she was here with all of her memories of the next few years, than where were the woman and Killian? Were they in this timeline? If so, then did they still have their memories? There were so many questions that Emma didn't even know how to start to answer. It was hard just for her to believe that this was actually happening, let alone trying to convince Henry that it was.

Then again, the kid had travelled to New York because his Grandma Snow gave him that storybook.

"If you wanted a staring contest, I don't think you know the rules," Henry said slowly, "because you're not supposed to just start without telling the other person."

"Sorry," Emma mumbled. She couldn't think about the missing links or companions right now, not when there were more urgent matters at hand. "Henry, there's something I need to tell you."

He frowned. "What is it?"

"I know that I'm your real mom, and that you stole Mary Margaret's credit card to get here. But there's something else," Emma hastily added, noticing the flash of disappointment in Henry's eyes. She wanted to get this over with quickly so that she could begin thinking of her next move, or of an explanation that would clarify why she ended up back here. Henry was the truest believer, and a pretty smart kid. He might know what to do, right? "I know about the book in your backpack, and that you think all of the stories in it are true: Mary Margaret being Snow White; Mr. Gold being Rumplestiltskin; Regina – your other mom – being the Evil Queen; and me, your birth mom, being the saviour. All of it is true, kid."

"I knew it!" Henry exclaimed, a smile spreading across his rosy face. "I knew I wasn't crazy!"

Emma couldn't help but smile with him. "Definitely not crazy. Although, you may become a criminal if you continue stealing credit cards."

"I'll return it. She probably won't mind," said Henry. "How do you know all of this?"

Emma stood up and grabbed her car keys from the side-table. "I'll tell you on the way back home. If I remember correctly, someone's going to be very anxious for your safety."


	2. Chapter 2

"Captain!"

Hook could ignore the pain searing through his head at every pulse of blood. He could overlook his aching limbs, protesting at the discomfort of lying on the hard wooden floor. He could even surpass the throbbing pain from what appeared to be a dislocated jaw. What he couldn't ignore, however, was the incessant shouting and rough shakes from his first mate.

"Captain!" Smee cried. "There's blood on your face. You're injured, Captain!"

His head was throbbing harder than it would after a particularly intense tavern brawl. In the rare occasions where his opponent took the upper hand, he usually had the grace to stumble back to his cabin and fall onto his bed rather than the hard, unforgiving floor.

" _Captain!_ "

Rubbing the cool metal from his hook against his forehead, Hook groaned as he slowly stood up, feeling the persistent ache of each individual muscle as he moved. He staggered as he tried to regain balance on the gently rocking ship, prompting a nervous Smee to clutch his arm to help keep him steady.

"I can stand up on my own, Smee." Hook grumbled, jerking his arm out of Smee's grasp so that he could swipe away the blood on his lip. Whoever had hit him had a strong arm. "Just give me a moment. And stop with the bloody yelling, would you?"

For a few moments, the pirate tried to compose himself. From what he could tell, it was night-time. The windows were blackened, and all of the candles were still lit. The ship was pretty steady, so they were probably still docked at the small harbour. If Hook had been in his bedchamber for more than a day, his men knew to sail on to the next port to 'avoid losing business'. It was a safe bet that he had only been knocked out for a couple of hours, at most.

"With all due respect, sir," Smee said hesitantly, interrupting Hook's thoughts. "What's happening with you? In one instance, you were telling me not to kill the vermin on the ship, and the next you're telling me you can't stand to see the things alive. And what's with the changing vests?"

"What in the devil's name are you going on about?"

The man frowned. "You've been switching vests all night. Is it because of that woman? The blonde one from the tavern?"

Hook paused, cursing himself for ever letting the image of the maiden with the fair hair slip his mind. Lasses would usually croon over the 'alluring dark mystery' of his hook, and how devilishly handsome they found him, whereas she had an ocean of secrets behind her eyes with no intention of telling them. He had moments where he thought he had a hold of her interest. When he spoke of his travels, her demeanour would ever so slightly change, and it was almost as if she would follow him blindly like the others. Although for most of their time together, she would tease him with those moments before pulling back. She would first draw him in with the allure of her eyes and soft words then block him out by turning away entirely, only choosing to lean closer to him than before once his eyes began to stray. At first, he thought she was just another foolish girl trying to tease him. After a while, he realised that there was more to her. Unlike the others, her cautious movements suggested that she planned her advances. She even spoke of wanting to go to unknown lands, where magic didn't exist and all women wore trousers. The most he usually got out of late night, drunk conversations was a new method of removing blood stains.

At one point, Hook thought he was being bewitched. He had never felt so enticed by a lady in all his life until her. And now she was gone.

As he turned to question Smee on if he had seen her departure, another memory flashed across his mind. The one that reminded him of the throbbing pain in his jaw.

"Someone must have taken her," Hook spoke distantly. "And that someone looked exactly like me."

"Like you?"

"Like me." Hook repeated grimly. His thoughts were running faster than his mind could keep up with. "It would explain the changing vests."

Smee frowned. "What would?"

After a period of silence, Hook finally spoke.

"Alas, I do believe this to be the work of the Dark One."

"Are you sure, capt'n?" Smee asked with eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you sure it's not just the rum? You did look very unsteady when you came aboard."

"Of course it's not the bloody rum, Smee," Hook sighed, "it takes more than a few glasses to have me swaying on deck."

"But why here? Why now?" Smee took off his hat and started twisting it between his hands. "Why would he come back?"

"Does the Dark One ever need a reason?" Hook snapped. "If he needed an excuse, he would use the one that involves me rescuing his wife from a miserable life with a coward. Besides, what other beast would use magic to mimic my form? What reason would another being have to sneak aboard my ship at night and leave all of my treasure as it is?"

Smee couldn't answer. If he hadn't been consumed by a sense of vengeance, Hook would have laughed at how the man in front of him had his mouth opening and closing like a fish, as each new idea faded as quickly as it came. Unfortunately for Hook, now wasn't the time to revel in a small man's small mental capacity.

No matter how hard he tried, Hook couldn't decipher why the woman wouldn't leave his thoughts. Indeed, she had admitted that they were simply 'two ships passing in the night', yet her words didn't ring true to him. Against all his reason, Hook felt as though her words held a greater weight than what she tried to make them out to be. He had only felt that way about one other woman in his past, but her heart had been crushed in front of his eyes. Surely, the Dark One must have sensed and taken advantage of the feeling of ease within Hook, which felt so foreign, so strange, that even Hook himself didn't realise it was there until it was cruelly taken away.

"Capt'n Hook! Capt'n!"

Hook immediately turned to the doorway as he heard the bellows from above deck. Moments later, a deckhand – Hook could never remember what his actual name was – was standing in the shadowed doorway. Even in the dark, Hook could almost see the tension and excitement radiating from the breathless young pirate ahead of him.

"What is it, lad?" He asked curiously.

"News from the crow's nest." The pirate grinned. "We have a visitor."

* * *

Hook shoved the man against the nearest wall and pinned him there with his good arm, using his metal claw to slowly scrape across the victim's cheek.

"I don't like to be toyed with, mate." Hook sneered. "If you've got answers, you better bloody give them to me."

"I've already told you." Maurice cowered further back into the wall, holding his hands up defensively. "All I know is that he's somewhere down south."

"Is that right, _sir_?" The pirate asked, pressing his hook deeper into the man's skin.

"I wouldn't lie to you!" Maurice panicked. "I'm a man of my word."

Hook laughed and roughly pushed him away, turning to face the bow of his ship. He scratched his growing beard and stared at the waves gently lapping underneath the soft glow of the moonlight, finding the regular motion and hushed sounds calming.

Hook remembered that Milah would always come here when the night tremors of her last love would befall her, with the humidity of the Captain's bedchamber proving to be too much for her to fall back asleep. He would follow her whenever she accidentally woke him, but she never seemed to take much notice. She would always stand at the very front, leaning against the railing with her eyes closed and her head tipped back. With her hair wafting gently behind her and a hint of a smile on her face, Milah always looked most at ease on these nights, more so than she had ever looked during daylight hours.

It was the serenity of the loss of obligation, she had told him one night, which always made her feel at ease. She did not have to hold the role of an ex-wife, a child's lost mother, a Captain's lover, or even her own self. At those times, Milah would forget about her identity, and pretend that she was a free spirit travelling the endless seas. She would forget the guilt, heartbreak, loss, and just be free. She could be happy.

Of course, Milah is gone now. Hook had spent many restless nights returning to that spot, with a slight glimmer of hope that she would be there. Occasionally, he had tricked himself into believing that he had seen a faint glow of a figure there; an otherworldly presence that lingered on the ship, forever remaining close to him, comforting him. The trick would never last as long as he would like. His mind would always twist the delusion into the one where he was staring into her tortured eyes as she struggled to keep her heart beating.

"I met a creature who was once said to be a man of honour; a 'man of his word'." Hook's countenance darkened as he turned back around to face Maurice, taking slow strides towards him. "I'm sure you'll understand why I don't trust men who claim to be of that character, especially when I reveal that that same creature I met had abandoned his war duty, abandoned his child in another realm, and killed his wife in the face of one whom dearly cared for her."

Maurice blanched as Hook grabbed him by his collar, pushed him against the wall once more, and lifted him slightly from the ground. This man had approached Hook at the most inopportune time. Feeling bitter about the Dark One mocking him once again, dangling what he wanted in front of his eyes before snatching it away, ensured that he was not in a particularly forgiving mood. Finally satisfied from the man's fearful eyes, Hook twisted the fabric in his hand to limit the man's air supply.

"I'll ask you once more," Hook growled. "Tell me where the crocodile is."

The red-faced man started gasping and wildly flailing one of his arms around, so Hook loosened his grip and allowed him to stand on his own feet.

"I don't know _exactly_ where he is," Maurice wheezed, "but I do know that Gaston, my kingdom's most skilled hunter of beasts, is trying to find his domain."

"I'm listening." Hook released him and backed up a few paces. "Make it quick."

"Thank you," Maurice sighed. "It's difficult, as the Dark One leaves few tracks, and speaks to fewer. However, from what I last heard from Gaston, he had been tracked to the outskirts of the Enchanted forest, just outside the barriers of the Kingdom's reign and protection. I haven't yet had a letter back stating his exact location, but someone from the last village he passed through may be able to show you what direction he was headed to."

Hook hadn't expected to get such a lead so early on in his renewed quest. How reliable it was, he wasn't sure, but he had nothing else to go from. Judging by the horrified expressions from the gentleman's face during the past half hour, he was sure that Maurice would have said just about anything to be released from the pirate's grasp. If it turned out to be false, Hook would ensure that this would not be his last encounter with the snivelling excuse of a man.

Hook turned towards the bow once more and made a gesture towards the nearest group of lurking shipmates. "Throw him overboard."

At this point, he didn't have many concerns for the wellbeing of others. Maurice probably knows how to swim, right?

Since his brother and lover had been so cruelly snatched away from him, he didn't believe in actively aiding the happiness of others, especially when his own life has been devoid of it for many years. All he now cared for was revenge, rum, and seeking the bar maid who would surely haunt many of his dreams to come. Though he would never dare admit it aloud, for fear of his shipmates thinking him as weak, he desperately sought what many 'heroes' took for granted; a happy ending.

"Please, Hook!" Maurice called out, feebly attempting to bat away the approaching crew. "I don't care what happens to me, just please try to free my daughter from the Dark One's hold. She sacrificed herself to save her family and her Kingdom, but he's surely holding my Belle a prisoner. Please, you owe me at least that!"

"I don't owe you anything, my boy," Hook laughed. "But I'll keep it in mind, if it'll console you during your swim back to shore. Feel lucky that I'm keeping you alive, mate."

"Captain!" Smee cried as he rushed to Hook's side. "Don't you think that's a little harsh? He did give you the answers you wanted."

"Unless you want to end up with the same fate as the old man over there, I suggest you keep quiet."

"Yes, sir," Smee replied meekly, bowing his head slightly as he glanced over at a struggling Maurice. "As you wish, sir."

Hook sighed, staring at a lone gull, lazily swooping along the shoreline. "Don't tell me you're going soft, Smee."

"I'm not, though I do think you're rather," Smee hesitated, " _committed,_ in finding the Dark one. Pray, tell me this. Why is it so important to find the Dark One _now_? What's so important about the bar wench?"

"The Dark One has always been my priority, only more so now that he's managed to rip someone away from me once more. And she's not just some 'bar wench'." Hook shook his head and turned to properly face Smee. His eyes were dull, and as tortured as driftwood in the sea amidst a storm. "Lad, have you ever had a moment when your eyes lay upon the most beautiful creature you have ever seen, with all of your pain slithering away when she is within your gaze?"

"I can't say I have, capt'n."

"Then you won't understand the severity that this quest holds to me." Within an instant, Hook's eyes closed off once more, replaced with a steely look. He turned away from his first mate and started walking towards the centre of the deck, ignoring the cries from a visibly absent Maurice. "Lift the anchor! We set sail tonight."


	3. Chapter 3

"So I told him what happened to Baelfire, he drank the potion, and then he let me go." Emma sighed. She had only gotten as far as August turning back into a young Pinocchio when they reached Storybrooke, so had to cut the engine a couple of metres away from Regina's house to stall for more time. She hadn't realised just how much had happened since that fateful night. "And that's about it. You know the rest from there. Now we have to find Mr. Gold, who is – should be – the only other one who remembered anything about before the curse. Since he had a complicated relationship with Regina and the only side he's ever been on is his own, he might be the only one who can help us figure out what the hell happened, and help to return things back to the way things should be. Any questions?"

"A million, but I'll shorten the list for now."

"Shoot."

"You've told me all of the names of who everyone in Storybrooke goes by now, except for one." Henry frowned. "Baelfire. Who is he?"

Emma had tried to purposely leave that part out, hoping not to go into details. Although she had hoped otherwise, Emma knew that Henry always noticed the small things. It was one of the many things she admired about him. She knew it hadn't ended well the last time she held information about Henry's father to him, but she wasn't ready to talk about him yet. The pain of his passing was still raw, and rehashing the information once to Neal's _father_ \- who evidently cared for him a great deal - was enough for her. The devastation in his eyes was one look that Emma would never forget.

Then again, Emma was technically in the past now. Hadn't Neal travelled to this realm well before the time period Emma and Killian had interrupted? And if Henry was here to begin with – Neal's son – couldn't that mean that Neal could still be alive?

"Neal Cassidy." Emma said slowly, trying to avoid the words 'is' or 'was', or any other time indicators. If he truly is still alive, then Neal should still be in an apartment in New York. Regardless, Emma didn't want to get her hopes up yet again. She had mourned his loss many times already, loss not strictly limited to death. "So, what are your other questions?"

Henry thought for a moment before narrowing his eyes in thought. "Are you sure you didn't change anything else in the past?"

"I told you, kid," Emma shifted to better face her son, confused. "The only thing we did was save that woman's life by taking her with us. She would have died if we didn't."

"That's the thing, though." Henry's voice rose. "If the person you saved really was just a woman from some village, then there must have been something _else_ that you did."

"Kid, if there's anything else I remember, I'll tell you." Emma put her hand on Henry's shoulder, trying to calm him down. She should have remembered how excitable he got. "For now, I just need time to scope out the place; see if anything has changed."

"Why don't you just break the curse now?" Henry asked. "That's how you broke it last time, right? When I went under the sleeping curse?"

Emma pondered for a few moments, turning to look down the road. The concept seemed so simple. If she broke the curse, everyone would have their memories back. Instead of subtly searching the town for any changes that may have happened, she could just let everyone remember and ask them herself.

Then she remembered what had happened when that did happen. Storybrooke was close to anarchy. The townspeople were out for blood over what had happened to them, namely Regina's. She had been forced into hiding for a number of days, and was separated from Henry. Though she knew that Regina was technically still evil, Emma knew that there was still _some_ good inside of her, even if she gave the impression of being as loving as a cactus to anyone that wasn't her son. She didn't want to subject her to such loneliness and hatred once more, which could potentially sway her into doing more evil.

"It's not that simple." Emma offered a small smile as she turned back to face her son. "Your mom went through a pretty hard time when the curse was broken. I know that she revealed her good side eventually, and that we know she can be good, but she's still the Evil Queen to these people, you know?"

"You're right." Henry admitted, narrowing his eyes in thought, just like his father did. "She deserves a chance of forgiveness, and her happy ending again, but it's going to make things more difficult."

"Well, we'll just have to work harder to remain under the radar, making sure no-one gets suspicious."

The boy's face lit up. "We can call it Operation Mamba."

"Mamba?" Emma drew a blank. "What the heck is a mamba?"

"It's a type of snake," Henry informed. "We learned about them in class once."

"I would've taken you for a cobra kind of kid." Emma mumbled. "Sure, Operation Mamba it is. Now, before I deliver you back home, do you have any more questions?"

"Just one. You said we have to find someone called Mr. Gold, right?"

"Right." Emma repeated slowly, cautious of the train of thought Henry was following. "What about it?"

"I've lived here all of my life, and know pretty much everyone in Storybrooke," Henry began. "But I've never met anyone called Mr. Gold."

Within one simple sentence, after the familiar comfort of starting Henry's new operation, Emma was ill at ease once more. His words deflated her, thrusting her thoughts into many more different directions. The only plan that she had had been thwarted.

Without Mr. Gold, the neutral party that would undoubtedly have had interactions with many members of Storybrooke, Emma wasn't sure where to turn to next. Her initial plan was to ask Gold what had changed since around the time her parents had met, and figure out a way to get back to her own timeline. Though she would have felt awful when doing so, she was hoping that she could use Baelfire as leverage once more. She assumed that, like in the past timeline, Mr Gold would do anything if it meant reuniting with his son. As selfish as she knew it was, she was even willing to lie about his son's fate. The only excuse she found to her actions would be that if she did return to her timeline, then this one would be destroyed, and what she said wouldn't matter.

This was the way it had to be. Neal had died once; Emma couldn't bear to see it happen again.

However, due to Mr. Gold's apparent absence, Emma now had to face the fact that she may not return to the Storybrooke she knew for quite some time. As Regina cast the curse to see Mary Margaret suffer, Emma was sure that she wouldn't be willing to help her return to a place where the step-mother and daughter were allies. She was especially sure that Regina wouldn't be fond of the idea of sharing Henry, so just approaching her as a potential friend in this timeline seemed farfetched. Operation Mamba just got a lot more complex.

"I'm guessing this is a really bad thing?" Henry asked curiously.

"Yeah, Henry, a really bad thing." Emma spoke distantly, still processing the information. Mr. Gold had been the _Dark One_ in the Enchanted Forest, so it didn't cross her mind that he would be so elusive – or possibly non-existent – in Storybrooke. "Are you really sure that he's not here? No pawnshop?"

Within the same breath, Emma restarted the engine, partially drowning out Henry's negative response. Due to her many dealings and disputes at the old antique shop, Emma was sure she knew the route there back to front by now. It wasn't that she didn't believe Henry, but she had to see it for herself. She had to have solid evidence to prove that some things have definitely changed.

They drove quickly down wide roads, glancing at some of the more familiar buildings as they went. The structures were the same, and although there were some were some new stores that she had never heard of before, most were the same. Most of the hospital's windows were lit up, and in one of them, David would most likely be resting. Hopefully. She recognised Ruby as they drove past Granny's, angrily slamming the door to the cafe, probably after another row over her choice of uniform. The middle school was eerily empty, though the distinctly colourful decorations in the windows were illuminated by the street lamps.

Eventually, they had reached their destination, and Emma pulled the car to an abrupt halt.

"What the hell?" Emma blurted while climbing out of her car. "It should be here."

Right where Mr Gold's shop should be was a massive gap between the two other buildings. She could see all the way to the fence at the back, where the adjacent stores would store their garbage. Instead of glass cabinets and bookshelves dipping under pressure, there were torn boxes and fading graffiti. It was as if Emma had imagined its very existence.

Leaning back against the Beetle, Emma closed her eyes and laid her hand on her forehead. She didn't know where Gold was, but it was clear enough that he was not here now. Nor he or his shop could help her now.

"I told you it wasn't here."

Emma opened her eyes as Henry appeared next to her, casting his gaze towards the gap. She sighed. "I know. I just don't know what we're going to do now."

"Isn't there someone else who could help?" Henry asked thoughtfully. "Like the Blue fairy who changed Snow White back into human form from a ladybird?"

"She doesn't have her magic yet." Emma began kicking some flyers that were lazily brushing against her feet from the wind. "Besides, she's now a nun who doesn't remember anything to do with magic because of the Curse, remember?"

Henry shrugged. "I guess."

She just wanted to go back to her own timeline, where things were finally beginning to become somewhat 'normal'. She was still debating how often parents – who are almost the same age as their daughter – had a baby with a 29 year old age gap to their sibling occurred in society, but considering that her parents were from a fairytale, it was about as 'normal' as she was ever going to get. Besides, she was beginning to miss her family in her own timeline, including her little brother. She didn't even know his name.

After a few minutes of silence, and a few minutes of an irritated Emma kicking flyers from being caught around her feet, she finally picked one up. It was more colourful than the missing pet posters that she usually saw, and was in a delightful comic sans font, with a school badge in one corner. Henry's school badge. From a cursory reading of it, she summarised that it was about fundraising for the local library to avoid its closure through a series of baking and jumble sales.

"Hey kid, do you know anything about this?"

Henry dragged himself out of his thoughts and peered at what Emma was gesturing at. "Of course. My class was put in charge of making posters and handing out leaflets. My mom cut funding for the library because she said it was wasting too much money."

"She did, did she?" Emma murmured. The dates for the events were in a week's time. "And what about the jumble sale? How are you getting things to sell?"

"Mostly through people donating things that they don't want any more." He began to chirp up. "We've already had a lot of donations. Mary Margaret and Lacey have had to store some of the stuff in their homes."

"Lacey? As in, Belle-Lacey?" This was different. Last time, Gold was here, and Belle had been locked away somewhere. Now Gold was nowhere to be seen, and 'Lacey' had made an appearance. As far as Emma's knowledge of the Enchanted Forest went, Regina had locked Belle up to keep her away from Gold. "What does she do in Storybrooke?"

"She's the librarian, she volunteers there." Henry explained, though grew a little more hesitant. "She got in some trouble, so it's part of her community service. Mom never told me what happened."

"It makes sense, at least." Emma recalled both memories of Belle being fond of reading, and Lacey being fond of drinking. She did wonder what Lacey did to consequent community service. Even in the timeline Emma remembered, Lacey was fonder of encouraging violent or criminal acts rather than partaking in them.

"I'd like to get a hold of her police records."

"You could try the sheriff's station." Henry suggested.

"I'd better try to get into your mom's good books before I do any snooping around," Emma sighed, "and speaking of your mom, it's about time that I get you home. She's probably worried sick."

Henry's posture drooped gloomily, but complied by entering the car. "You're right. She's going to kill me."

* * *

"Henry!"

The duo had barely opened the gate when the porch light flickered on, and Regina flew down the pathway. She wrapped her arms around Henry before cupping his face, tilting it to each side as she checked for any possible harm. After a few protests from her son, Regina finally let him go, ordering him to go to bed. Henry seemed reluctant at first, but after an encouraging smile from Emma, he headed back indoors. The upstairs window suddenly becoming aglow was the only indication of his movement.

Within the essence of the reunion, Emma found it hard to believe that Regina had ever been the Evil Queen at all. Everyone had their vulnerabilities, and for her, it was Henry. However, when Regina's eyes captured hers, she remembered how Regina used to be. Though she could see that there was notable relief, there were also glints of curiosity and suspicion in Regina's glare. It was somewhat understandable, as Storybrooke wasn't a well-known tourist destination, but she was giving off a pretty bad vibe.

"Thank you." Regina smiled and took a few cautious steps forward, folding her arms. "For returning my son to me."

"No problem. He's a very-" Emma fumbled over her words "-he seems like a very spirited kid. If he gets an idea, it looks like he's not afraid to follow it through."

If Emma was going to keep up with the pretence that she was new to the town, she had to be careful with how she presented herself to those she came across, especially ones who had the potential to make her life less than joyful. She knew those consequences all too well.

"Why did my son want to find you?" Regina asked, narrowing her eyes. "Who are you?"

Emma took a deep breath. "I'm Emma Swan; his birth-mother."

"I see." Regina's posture became a little more rigid, but uncrossed her arms and clasped her hands in front of her. "Well, would you like to come inside? Share a drink, maybe?"

"That's fine, it's getting pretty late." Emma began taking small steps backward, planning a quick exit to the gate. "Though, I'd like to talk more about Henry some time. It seems like you're doing a pretty good job with him."

"You do know the agreements about a closed adoption, right?" She warned, raising an eyebrow. "You gave up your rights to see Henry."

"That's right, I remember." Emma offered a strained smile as she slipped out of the gate, closing it behind her. "I'd just like a friendly update. Mother-to-mother."

With that, Emma strode over to her car and slumped into the driver's seat. The confrontation hadn't gone entirely as planned, though she wanted to keep it short and sweet. The day seemed to have lasted an age already, and she had so much that she had to process before she faced the next day. From analysing her and Killian's actions during their expedition to the past, to figuring out what's changed in _this_ Storybrooke and how to get back to _her_ Storybrooke, she knew that she was in for a long night.

* * *

Regina didn't like change, especially in Storybrooke. Change led to new potential threats. Change led to the possibility of the Curse being weakened, or worse, broken. Emma Swan was the embodiment of all that Regina had tried to avoid, especially after learning that she had a strong link to one of those whom she held most dear to her heart. Henry.

Disgruntled from the abrupt end in conversation, Regina headed indoors, bracing herself against the back of the front door as she caught her breath. She caught a glimpse of trainers haphazardly thrown at the base of the stairs, and just as she was about to reprimand her son – yet again – for not putting his shoes away, a dark-haired figure approached her from the kitchen. A smug smile spread across her face as she sauntered towards him.

"Good evening, love." The man smirked, alight with mischief and curiosity. "If you don't mind me asking, who the bloody hell was that?"


	4. Chapter 4

"The storm is getting worse." Smee's gaze desperately darted between the sea and his Captain's cold stare. "We can't keep control of her much longer. The sails are already beginning to tear."

Behind them, their shipmates were struggling to keep the Jolly Roger afloat. A row of men clung to ropes in attempt to keep in masts in a stable and functional position. The young man in the crow's nest – the Jolly Roger's newest recruit – was clinging onto the low barriers as the ship rocked from each side. The group of the lowest deckhands arguably had the most labouring task of scooping buckets of water from the ship, after countless waves sent floods on the deck.

The pirates tried to call out to one another for updates and support, but the roar of the restless sea drowned out their voices. Each man was scrambling about the ship in a disorderly fashion. It was a rare occurrence that the crew was caught in a storm; they usually lay their anchor at the first few signs of coming bad weather.

Hook had been determined that they wouldn't give in to nature's tricks. Instead, he battled with the ship's wheel, baring his teeth as he was repeatedly showered with salty sea water. This wasn't his worst voyage, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Capt'n!" Smee half-fell, half-stumbled his way over to the side of the ship, quickly grabbing on to one of the ropes as the vessel lurched deeply to the right. After checking that his hat was still resting upon his head, he shakily made his way back to Hook's side. "Captain, we need to sail the ship to a harbour. She can't survive these kinds of conditions."

" _We_?" Hook barked. "I don't think there's any bloody 'we' in this, Smee. This is my ship, I make the calls, and I say-"

Hook was interrupted by an ominous cracking sound from behind. As he turned, he saw that the mast of the ship had begun to splinter near the base, making it stoop slightly towards the bow of the ship. The crew had stopped their work to gape at the tall structure, eyes wide.

"Get rope and steady the mast. Make sure it lasts until we reach the shore." Hook's snarled and faced the wheel once more. He grunted as he used most of his body weight to swing the wheel to the right. "And tell the daft urchin on lookout to lend a hand on deck, preferably before he and his damn telescope become shark bait."

* * *

"The damage could've been worse," Smee observed in the light of the falling sun, scratching his chin doubtfully. "At least she still works."

"We'll need to work through the night to patch her up."

Though the Jolly Roger had anchored at the harbour before the storm in the open seas had hit its worst, the ship still maintained multiple wounds. The mast survived the storm, though it would need to be temporarily secured with wood around the base to keep it somewhat sturdy, and the tears in the sails would need to be patched or replaced. The hatch to the belly of the ship had been left open, so most of the cannons would need to be cleaned and refilled, as well as most of the open food barrels. Aside from items being tossed around, the only part of the ship that remained relatively unscathed was the Captain's headquarters.

"Smee, get the maps." Hook sighed. "We're going to the tavern. I'm afraid I'll need something stronger than rum tonight."

As Smee scurried away, shouting from one of the older, brawnier shipmates caught Hook's attention.

"Aye, Captain, abandon your ship again!" A bitter laugh escaped his lips as he tossed the rope he was holding, spitting at the ground where it fell. "All in favour for another wench who drank your rum, whispered sweet promises, and made you fall head over arse trying to keep up with her seductive charms. What an ironclad leader we have in our midst!"

Though he kept a calm external appearance, Hook's heart was pounding faster than the swiftest vessel in all the realms; the demons within his head awoke at the shipmate's harsh words. He had spent many sleepless nights battling with their quiet, sinister whispers. _You put her before you're brother's ship._ _You failed to protect her. You were only her distraction. She could never truly love a man like you._

At this point, Hook couldn't decipher whether they were tormenting him about Milah or the blonde maiden.

Hook pulled his flask from his side pocket and took a deep drink. The whispers were lulled back into a sleeping silence, though he knew it wouldn't be long until they returned with more ominous words to tear down the walls of his sanity. He would definitely need something stronger than rum if he wanted the devils of his mind to remain quiet for a few more hours.

He didn't expect Smee to keep the reason for their journey quiet for long, as the ship would always figure it out eventually, but Hook didn't expect it would be a matter of hours before word got out. He knew that chasing after the man who took another woman from him might seem reckless in the eyes of his men, but he'd hoped he would have more time to form an explanation to highlight the necessity of his plight.

Then again, he was the leader on this vessel. What he wanted, the crew wanted. They were united. As far as Hook was concerned, there were no laws that pirates abide by, so anyone wanting to persist in arguing against him was an enemy. He considered himself a fair and honourable captain, though he would not tolerate rebellious hooligans on his ship.

After a few minutes, Hook ambled onto the ship, a small smirk playing on his lips. Once a few feet away, Hook stood opposite the man, his hands loosely on his hips. The man narrowed his eyes, leaning his weight on the hand resting against the ship. He had the advantage of being taller and better built, but he had expected a more fierce approach, so the unusual calm and amusement in his captain's face unsettled him. The rest of the ship silently overlooked.

Tension built around the two as they stared at one another, each unwilling to back down. The crewmember remained still and solid, while Hook casually paced left to right. It only took a moment for him to notice what suitable punishment would befall upon his challenger, and mere seconds for him to swiftly unsheathe his sword and strike it down upon the man's hand, neatly separating the man's hand from his wrist. Hook's delight at such a sight lasted for the few seconds it took for the man to fall to the floor, cursing as he cradled the remains of the bloody stump to stomach.

"Does anyone else want to join this man in declaring mutiny?" Hook yelled as he turned to face the rest of the men, who were quickly beginning to return back to their roles. After a few moments of silence, Hook laughed and made his way back to land, aiming towards what he assumed was a village. As he walked, he shouted: "Let that be a lesson to you, lads. I've killed men for much less. Make sure he's as far away from my ship as possible by time I get back."

"Capt'n," Smee appeared, breathless, by his side. He was trying to balance all of the maps within his arm's grasp without damaging them, though his short stature equated to equally short arms. "Mind lending me a hand here?"

Without a second's thought, the pirate unscrewed his metal hook and dropped it onto the pile of rolled papers, causing Smee to lose what little control he had over them. As the maps fell to the floor, Smee sent disgruntled glares to Hook's retreating figure.

* * *

As the cool liquid slid down his throat and burned in his stomach, Hook began to feel more at ease. The gentle hum from the locals was somewhat satisfying, and he was glad that the floor beneath his feet was firm and steady. For now, the voices in his head had abandoned him, and he was able to concentrate on matters of real importance, such as deciphering which map was needed in order to find the hunter Gaston that Maurice had mentioned.

Due to Smee's insufferable muttering over the maps, and which would be the quickest route, Hook had sent him back to the ship after confirming how often they would have to stop and restock. Finally alone with his thoughts, Hook's mind wandered to the source of his recent dilemmas.

He wasn't sure why he always became so fixated upon unattainable women.

First, there was Milah. Even though she had openly admitted her commitment to him, and they had then spent a short while happily travelling the seas together, she was legally bound to another. Yes, Hook didn't abide by any written laws, but he had always had the suspicion that her heart would forever remain with the one who crushed it. Despite his constant displays of cowardice and evil, he suspected that the Dark One was her true love. No display of affection could cover the pain she harboured for the loss of her husband and son.

Now, there was the maiden from the bar. Hook had notably less history with this lass. A few hours could hardly compare with the few months he spent alongside Milah, though it was as if there was an invisible tether between the two of them, and the longer he spent with her, the more threads were added between them. He would see the world through her playful eyes when she talked, and it was a bright and mysterious place. Her laugh reminded him of the tinkling music he once heard long ago, and the constant aching in his chest was soothed when he held her within his arms.

Though it was still almost full, Hook downed the rest of his liquor and signalled for another. If he was going to survive the coming days until he discovered the meaning behind her disappearance, he would have sooth his inflamed passions with drink in the meantime. Without caution, it would be his weakness.

"I spy a man trying to drown his troubles in drink."

Hook glanced up as a man slid onto the bench opposite him. He was in the more youthful years of his life, and his eyes contained a flicker of joy that seemed to burn like an eternal flame. He had only been in his presence for a mere amount of seconds, but from his pleasant expression and slight bounce in his movements, Hook could tell that this man rarely let anything get beneath his skin. The sheer positivity was already having a draining affect on the tipsy pirate.

"It's the best way to do it, in my eyes." Hook sighed before swallowing a large mouthful of the amber liquid. "Though if you're interested in making small talk, I'm afraid I'm not the man for it. If you're here to talk business, then you better get a move on, mate."

The man frowned for a moment, though his smile lingered. If Hook had been in less brooding mood, he may have found the foolish face amusing.

"Harvey. Most just call me Hal." He offered his left hand for Hook to shake, at which the pirate just stared with one eyebrow raised. The hand was quickly retracted and replaced by an awkward cough. "I understand that you're Captain Hook?"

"My reputation precedes me. Go on."

"I may have some information that may interest you." Hal's voice quietened as he awkwardly leaned across the table. "Though in return, my wife and I would like to secure passage on your ship."

Hook narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"My wife has become weak with an illness that is foreign to this land. We have sought every possible doctor, but to no avail. With Greta ready to give birth any day now, we have not the time or money to seek a witch." Hal's tone lowered. "Legend foretold that there are magical creatures in the kingdom of Arendelle; they might be able to cure her of her ailments."

"And what information do you think would be valuable enough for me to go out of my way to get you to this land?" Hook leaned back into his chair and scratched the stubble on his chin. If this man had seemed in any way endearing in his efforts to Hook before, it had certainly been replaced by irritation now. "What have you possibly got to offer me?"

"New information about the Dark One. I hear that he is whom you are seeking."

Hook paused. "I'm listening."

"I hear that the Dark One has only one fatal weakness; one that is not easily overcome." Hal's words began to flow quicker as he spoke, relieved that he has finally grasped the man's attention. "Though I've heard that once you know of his weakness, and how to take advantage of it, there is a way to kill him."

"Tell me what it is." Hook's voice had lowered immeasurably as he straightened his back, leaning towards the man as if it would get the information out of him faster. "This weakness of his, is it a weapon? A person?"

"I'm afraid that I do not know." Hal said sadly. "All I know is from what my dear Greta was told by her brother."

"And how did he find this out?"

"He was driving the carriage that the Evil Queen was in when she captured a woman." Hal's voice was close to a whisper now, conscious of anyone who could be listening into their conversation. It was not his place to discuss dealings with the Evil Queen, and doing so could land his brother-in-law in a great deal of trouble for betraying the Queen's policy of discretion. However, Hal was desperate. He was sure he would do almost anything that would help Greta at this point. "Despite spending many a month within the Dark One's abode, this woman – his servant – had learned many things about him, possibly about how he can be defeated. Although by the sounds of it, she wasn't all too willing to give any information out. Greta's brother heard a lot of arguing during their ride."

Hook sat back for a moment, remembering his dealings with Maurice not so many hours ago. He had mentioned that he had a daughter – Belle – that he suspected was being held prisoner by the Dark One. Considering that he's never seen the Dark One comfortably in the presence of anyone for any length of time, Hook believed it was safe to assume that Maurice's daughter and the female servant that Hal mentioned were the same person. Even if they weren't the same person, he only needed to find one of them to find out more about the Dark One for now.

"This girl." Hook mumbled, half-consumed in his own thoughts. She may know where Hook's barmaid is being held. She may also know how to kill the Dark One. "Where did your brother-in-law take her?"

"A small tower just outside of the kingdom's borders." Hal explained. After a moment of scanning one of the open maps on the table between them, Hal pointed to the place that Greta's brother had described earlier. "She shan't be there long though. When Greta's brother came home this evening, they were already preparing for another departure."

A slight panic ran through Hook. This was the only solid lead he had, and he didn't want it slipping away before he had the chance to follow it. "Where are they headed?"

"I'm afraid that I do not possess that information. They only reveal the Queen's next movements to those who are directly assisting her in order to prevent potential threats to her. My brother-in-law is off duty right now, so he wasn't told."

As the words left Hal's tongue, Hook knew that he would have to plan a quick departure if he wanted to find the servant – this 'Belle' girl – and discover what she knows about the Dark One. Even if she does not possess the knowledge of how the Dark One can be killed, she may at least know of something – maybe something of sentimental value – that may be used in order to manipulate him, should Hook get the opportunity to do so. A person who lived with the Dark One seemed a more viable option than some hunter named Gaston with an unconfirmed location.

"We leave tonight." Hook decided. There was little time to waste, and he was sure he could manage sailing through the dying storm. "Bring your wife and whatever bare essentials you need, but hurry. We depart in a half hour. Once I've acquired the servant girl, I'll take you to Arendelle. By the looks of it, it isn't too far from where the girl is being held."

Hal nodded, unable to contain a smile from spreading across his face. He showered Hook in thanks before disappearing to the upstairs of the cavern, almost bounding up each step. The man had more energy than the rats on his ship when they were being chased by a broom.

Although, a pale-faced Hal clutching a handkerchief in his hands returned a few minutes later as Hook was gathering his maps. Hook looked at him in confusion, as the man slowly slid back onto the bench. The man in front of him, who could barely contain his excitement just moments ago, was almost shivering.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" Hook demanded, impatience slipping into his voice. His time was precious, and this man seemed lost in it. "We need to get moving."

"My wife is in labour." Hal mumbled. He stewed in his thoughts for a few moments, before realising what situation had befallen him. "We need to delay the trip, just for a few hours until she gives birth."

The pirate sighed, irritation rising once more. "We don't have the time. If I'm to catch Belle before she is transferred elsewhere, we need to leave now."

"But we can't move her." Al pleaded, grabbing Hook's sleeve and clutching it desperately, as if it would stop him from leaving. "The strain from her illness and labour are already taking a toll on her body. We need to keep her in a safe, clean environment until the twins arrive."

Though slightly offended by the man questioning his ship's hygiene standards, Hook could see his point. He knew that he could sympathise with this man and wait a while longer, but he chose not to. Doing so would compromise his own situation, especially now that he was time bound. Besides, if Hook had once abandoned one of his own crew members when he stayed too long at a dock once, Hook could leave this man. He had to make sacrifices sometimes.

"I'm sorry, lad. The Dark One has already taken the life of one woman whom I held dear to my heart. I can't risk him taking another."

"And by doing so, you'll have taken the life of the one woman whom _I_ hold dear. Besides, only cowards break their word." Al's tone hardened, his shoulders tensed. "Please, Hook. You are my wife's only solace now. Without your help, without the magical creatures' help, she _will_ die. My unborn children could die, too."

Hook swallowed thickly. He could already feel the stabbing pain from a seed of regret taking root in his heart. His revenge would cost him the value of his word, one thing that Liam had always insisted he kept, and the life of an innocent woman. A wife. A mother. The thought reminded him of Milah, and the guilt she fared after abandoning her son, believing that she would be the cause if Baelfire took after his father.

Had it not been for the thought of Milah's first love, of the crocodile and his sickening sense of humour, Hook might have faltered. The damn barmaid had a strong hold on his heart, and he couldn't risk losing her to him before he had a chance to really know her. Losing someone else from his life for the sake of a couple of strangers was a cross he was not willing to bear. He needed a cause, something – someone – to prevent him driving himself to insanity.

"Sorry, mate." Hook grunted and swiftly pulled his arm from Hal's grasp, making his way to the tavern's exit. He tried to ignore the heavy sensation in his chest as he walked. "I have to find this woman before she is moved again."

"My wife will die! What about this do you not understand?"

Hal stumbled out of the tavern after the pirate, though didn't pursue him as he strode back to his ship. Changing Hook's mind seemed like a futile attempt at this point, and Hal couldn't be far from Greta; he needed to return to her soon. Labour was already weakening her, and though he did not want to admit it, she didn't have long left. Instead, he shouted from the doorway, his voice hoarse as he tried to maintain his dignity by keeping control of his emotions.

"Let my children's names bear a weight on your rotten heart." Hal shouted, jaw trembling as he tried to maintain his composure. "Hansel and Gretel. Do you hear me? They will grow up with hatred in their hearts for the pathetic excuse of a man who broke his word and killed their mother. Should they ever cross your path in the future, I plea they show you no mercy."


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as the monotonous beeps started blaring from Emma's phone, she quickly disabled the alarm and set it back down on the desk in front of her. She was fully aware that it was 6am; she could clearly see it on the giant clock tower opposite her room at Granny's. She didn't need a miniature robot reminding her about it every five minutes.

The sun had barely risen and was casting soft shadows across a sleepy Storybrooke, the sky coloured with overlapping shades of grey and pink. Emma bitterly noted that the only thing missing from this supposedly perfect morning was the sound of birds tweeting outside her window. She assumed they were busy pestering Mary Margaret, who was practically the embodiment of Mother Nature.

Emma usually considered herself a decent morning person, though the opinion changes when she has a night of next to no sleep.

Despite spending a restless few hours recalling every moment she had spent in the Enchanted Forest, Emma felt as though she was no closer to unveiling a valid reason behind her being transported back here. She supposed the woman that they saved might have had something to do with it, but she didn't strike Emma as being a ruthless killer; she just seemed like an ordinary woman. Killian's past self could have remembered their encounter, but she believed her Killian when he said he was dosed up on rum. Rumplestiltskin could have chosen not to drink the potion, but he would know better than to jeopardize the future, right? As far as she knew, he wasn't here, so Emma couldn't be sure. From her eyes, her only solid leads were to either find the woman they had rescued, find Mr Gold, or break the Curse and then ask around. She knew the latter could potentially disturb the town's peace and create havoc, so she was saving that for a DEFCON 1 emergency.

For a few moments, Emma stared at the notes she had created over the last couple of hours. They were haphazardly arranged across the desk, but somewhat resembled a semi-complete timeline. So far, she had only managed to compare the changes and further frustrate herself. When she finally accepted defeat, she gathered them into a pile and shoved them into the top draw. It was only seconds before her paranoia kicked in and she put them in her bag, conscious of the consequences if someone found them, before heading off to take a refreshing cold shower to wake her up.

* * *

"What's my favourite colour?"

"Red."

"Who's my favourite superhero?"

"Undecided. You haven't read all of the comic books yet."

"Do you know who it will be?"

"Spoilers, kid."

"Okay, then what's my favourite coffee?"

"Trick question. The only hot beverage you drink now is hot chocolate, and it turns into your kryptonite if it contains cinnamon."

"This is so cool," Henry grinned up at Emma as they continued walking. "It's like you can hear what I'm thinking."

"Anyone else would find that creepy," Emma laughed.

She enjoyed spending some time with him, even if it was only for the short walk to his school. Emma had taken her pondering to the streets after her shower, and had only realised how much time had passed when Henry suddenly appeared by her side a couple hours later. She knew that when this eventually got reported back to Regina that she wouldn't approve, but that was the least of her concerns right now. Maybe she'd find the confrontation with the Mayor productive when she's scoped out the town a little more.

"Not creepy, exactly. Just- cool," Henry drew out his words slowly as he hitched his bag further up on his shoulders. "Anyway, do you think you've figured out what changed everything yet?"

"Not a clue, kid." Emma sighed and ruffled his hair. "When I do, I promise that you'll be the first to know."

Henry smirked. "Of course I will be; who else would you tell? This is Operation Mamba, after all."

Emma laughed in response, though the realisation that she could only openly talk to Henry slammed into her like a brick wall. She appreciated that she at least had him, but there would be no more late night talks over a really bad chick flick and hot beverage with Mary Margaret, or even any more hard-hitting truths from Regina, whom Emma had only realised she had became quite fond of.

She felt oddly irritated that most of the town didn't know her name, but she knew theirs. Emma could already imagine the amount of one-sided introductions that she was going to face during her time here.

Pulling herself out of the maze of thoughts, Emma sighed. "Operation Mamba looks like it's going to be a tough one."

"At least we have the book though, right?" Henry suggested with eyes alight. "Maybe that could fill in some of the gaps your missing, tell you what changed when you were in the Enchanted Forest."

The book. Emma had spent a full night trying to figure out what might have changed and why, whilst the answers could have been in the book this whole time. If it wasn't for the lack of sleep, Emma would almost believe that she was losing her touch.

Emma came to an abrupt halt, forcing Henry to turn around and face her.

"The book, do you have it on you?" Emma asked. "I could go through it while you're school and fill you in on the details later."

"Sure. It's still in my backpack."

As soon as he finished speaking, Emma spun the boy around by his shoulders and began unzipping the bag. It contained everything you could expect from a ten year old going to school: paper, stationary, school books, a packed lunch and an old gaming console. It had everything but an oversized book with stories about real life fairytales.

Emma sighed and closed the bag. When she took a step back, Henry turned around and gave her a puzzled look. She was pretty sure that the defeated look on her face gave away the news before she had a chance to say it.

"It has to be there." Henry's voice raised a few octaves as he took off his backpack and started rummaging through it on the pavement. "I put it in there when I left Storybrooke and I haven't touched it since. It can't be anywhere else."

"Henry," Emma voice softened as she crouched beside him. She laid a hand gently on his shoulder, making him momentarily pause his search as he looked up to her. The disappointment was plain and simple on his face. "Don't worry; it's not the first time this has happened. We could work from memory. Can you remember any of the stories you read from it?"

"I only read Snow White's story before I went to Boston, but everything seems the same from what you told me."

"No matter," Emma sighed, helping Henry organise his things again. "We'll just have to figure things out the old fashioned way."

Henry sighed, slipping his bag back onto his shoulders as he stood up. "I'm sorry I lost it."

"Hey, don't worry about it." Emma gave a reassuring smile. She had only relied on the idea of the book for a few moments, so its loss didn't impact her as much. It just gave her another lead to follow in her quest. "We'll talk about it some more later, okay? Making you late for school isn't exactly going to get me into Regina's good books."

"Fine," Henry said reluctantly. As he began running towards the school entrance, he shouted over his shoulder, "Just make sure you give me a full update later!"

Emma chuckled to herself as she watched him join the line of the other kids and start talking to one of them. He looked happy, and that's all she wanted for him. Just as she was about to turn away, she caught sight of Mary Margaret at the front of Henry's line.

From the outside, she looked the same as she's always done: short dark hair, pale complexion, and endless amounts of patience in the presence of a dozen excitable young children. Everything but her eyes was the same as the last time Emma her in _her_ timeline. Mary Margaret smiled as she greeted her class, but it was clear she was touched by sadness. Loneliness, perhaps. Emma had almost forgotten what the Curse had done to her.

Just as she started walking away, Mary Margaret looked directly at her. She smiled, but the love and compassion Emma usually saw was gone. Her mother was a few feet away, but she had never felt so distant from her, just like she had felt in the Enchanted Forest. It made her even more determined to find a way back.

Emma returned the smile and walked briskly away, pulling out Henry's flyer from her jeans pocket and examining it once more. She was assuming that Lacey would be as 'sociable' as she was last time, so spending time with her could lead her to getting to know more about this Storybrooke and its inhabitants. If the book turned up in the library or jumble sale, even better.

Last time she was a sheriff, this time she would a librarian volunteer. There were no bets on guessing which one she preferred.

* * *

"Why on earth would you want to spend your time here?" Lacey laughed in mock horror and waved her arm to the side, gesturing to the bookshelves beside her front desk. "It's old, dusty, and the only people who come in here are kids or old people looking for gardening tips."

Emma shrugged. She had a point. It had never been the most modern or updated library, but this place looked as though someone was ready to swing a sledgehammer at it. The paint around the walls was cracked and chipped, and in some parts, small chunks of plasterboard had been knocked out from the wall. The carpets were visibly clean from dirt and crumbs, though there were patches of questionable stains underneath the windows. The books themselves looked old and battered, with the writing on the spines barely comprehensible on some; it hadn't restocked in a long time. They barely had enough books to fill some of the shelves.

Even for someone who was supposed to love books, it must be hard working in a place as run down as this.

"That's true," Emma said eventually. "But my son loves reading, and I plan on staying here a while, so I figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to start integrating myself into the community somehow. Get to know some of the people here."

"Who's your son?" Lacey asked curiously, taking a book from a pile in front of her and stamping it.

"Henry." Emma noticed a spark of interest in her eyes as she said his name. "The Mayor's adopted son."

"How fascinating." Lacey smirked as she put down the book and pulled a sheet of paper from the top drawer to hand to Emma. You could practically hear the mischief in her tone. "Fill this in and hand it back to me whenever you can. I'm Lacey."

"Emma." She took the piece of paper and quickly glanced over the volunteer form. After a moment, she relaxed her shoulders and tried to look casual as she folded the piece of paper and put it in her bag. "If you hate the place so much, why are you here?"

Lacey straightened her back slightly. "It's not so bad. It was either here or picking up litter on the main roads. I'm warm and sheltered here, at least."

"Community service?" Emma knew she was prying, but she couldn't help it. "What did they pin you for?"

"I, uh," Lacey avoided eye contact and began shuffling bits of paper around the desk, "would rather not say."

Emma smiled sympathetically. "Pheonix, 11 months. We've all made mistakes."

As she turned to leave and end the awkward confrontation, Emma was confronted by a rosy cheeked Henry entering the library. The wind had tussled his hair, and judging from his breathlessness, he had just run over here. After a quick glance at her watch confirming that she had only dropped him off roughly an hour ago, it was safe to say she was surprised to see him there.

"Henry, what are you doing here?" Emma reprimanded, taking a few steps towards him and crouching down to his height. "It's only 10 o'clock, you should still be in school."

"I think I know who might have taken the book," Henry gushed, "and if I'm right, we have to get it back as soon as possible."

"Kid, slow do-"

Just as Emma was speaking, she saw the door to the library close and an awfully familiar flash of dark hair as someone left the building. If the person leaving was a certain person she time travelled with, then there stood a chance that she wasn't the only one who retained her memories. It would make figuring out what they did wrong a hell of a lot easier.

"Henry, wait here."

Emma dashed out of the door after the figure. Since the library was on the corner of a junction, it was easy for her to scan the surrounding streets. Apart from an elderly couple walking across the road and a few passing cars, the street was empty.

 _He can't have just disappeared._

Emma jogged down one of the streets, checking the nearest alleyway as she passed. Nothing. Her heart began pounding as she continued on down the street, glancing in shop windows as she passed, but to no avail. He wasn't there, and it was too late to start checking the other streets. Whoever she saw left quickly and was long gone.

Defeated, she began walking back to the library. She was slightly surprised to see Lacey standing behind Henry outside the building, her hands placed protectively on his shoulders. As she neared, Emma noticed the confused faces of her son and the woman next to him.

"Emma, are you alright?" Lacey said cautiously. "You just took off with no reason."

"Yeah," Emma sighed, trying to catch her breath. "Yeah, I just thought I saw someone I knew. It must be the lack of sleep."

The woman's face softened. "Do you want me to take Henry back to school?"

"No!" Henry interrupted, pulling himself out of Lacey's grasp and moving to stand beside Emma. "No, Emma can take me. I need to talk to her, anyway."

"Yeah, I'll take him." Emma put her hand against Henry's back as she began walking, pushing him gently along. "It gives me a chance to tell him off for trying to skip his class."

"Take care," Lacey said as she began retreating to the library. "And Henry, no more truancy, okay?"

"You got it." Henry called out. When she was safely out of sight, he turned to Emma and lowered his tone. "Emma, we need to go and get the book right now."

"Kid, what we need is to get you back to school." Emma scolded. She forgot that he could act impulsively sometimes, just like she would. It was a handful at the best of times. "Remember what I told you last time I fought with Regina? One time, she put me in jail. Another time, she stopped me from seeing you completely. If you start acting up around me, she's going to think I'm a bad influence and do it all over again."

"But what about the book?" Henry pleaded. "It could help us figure out what happened and change things back to the way things are supposed to be."

After a few moments of thought, Emma reached a middle ground. "How about you tell me your idea while we walk back to school, and I'll check it out as soon as I can, okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

"I saw her."

Regina looked up just as the door closed, leaving the two of them in the privacy of her Mayor's office. Usually she didn't mind him interrupting, but this day had been particularly stressful for her.

She hadn't expected Emma Swan to appear quite so suddenly, and by her son's doing, no less. She had almost forgotten that Henry was her adopted son, and that he could leave Storybrooke whenever he liked. The fact that his real mother was also the woman destined to destroy her Curse was like twisting a knife in a healing wound.

"Saw whom, darling?" Regina forced a smile as she laid her pen down on her desk.

"The girl I've been searching for." Killian removed his jacket and threw it on the nearest chair. "I saw her in the library."

"You did, did you?" Regina asked curiously, bitterness coiling in her stomach as she stood to greet him. She could already hazard a guess at who the girl was, and her hatred was burning brighter by the second. Sidney Glass was sent to track her as soon as she left the Mill's household. "And who is this 'blonde haired maiden', this 'woman who captured the essence of my soul within her eyes'? Did you catch her name?"

Regina stalked forward and rested her hands on Killian's shoulders. She would have been pleased when his hands instinctively rested on his waist, but he knew his thoughts were preoccupied. She could easily see the relief and conflict captioned in his eyes. He knew this day would come, but despite having 28 years to come to terms with it, he was still unprepared.

"Emma. Her name is Emma."


	6. Chapter 6

"That's it." Hook nodded towards the faint outline of a tower. "That's where she is."

"The blonde from the bar, Capt'n?" Smee asked hopefully, squinting his eyes to try and get a better look.

"Keep up, my lad," said Hook. "It's where they keep the girl who'll help me find mine."

"You're looking for a lot of girls."

Hook laughed. "More than you'll ever meet, Smee."

Despite the brisk winds that tousled Hook's hair, the seas were much calmer since their departure from the village harbour. There was visibly rushed repair work on the mast and sails, but the ship had survived the worst of the storm. If anything, it seemed to have helped strip away some of the barnacles plastered onto the belly of the ship.

Hook veered the wheel slightly to stay on course, almost wincing when the udders bitterly protested under the Jolly Roger's newly deteriorated conditions. Despite the jittery movements sending momentary waves of dread over Hook at the amount of repairs that were needed, a ghost of a smile slipped onto his face.

Progress. It wasn't much, but he finally had a solid direction.

"Are you sure that's the place, Capt'n?"

The pirate turned to see Smee now holding a small brass telescope to his eye, mouth agape as he peered through it. He couldn't help but laugh heartily at him as he contorted his face in attempts to get a better look; the man even stood up on his tiptoes at one point. Sometimes his idiocies could be endearing.

"What makes you think we're not?" Hook asked curiously, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt. Despite his appearance, Smee had made himself a somewhat valuable asset of the crew. When he spoke up, it was often with good reason. Though that didn't mean Hook wouldn't take the opportunity to poke fun at him. "Tell me what knowledge you have acquired of locating women with that small rod of yours."

Smee's face reddened as he handed the telescope to Hook. "The place looks deserted. No guards, no carriages, no anything."

When Hook looked through, he reluctantly realised that Smee had a point. His view of the tower was a little shaky and distant, though it seemed as though the place was pretty empty. He could imagine the place being heavily guarded if a queen was residing there. Just as he was about to relay these thoughts back to Smee, he heard a heart-sinking tearing sound from behind him.

Hook scowled. "I don't even want to look."

"You'd better not," Smee mumbled, unable to look away from mast. The young lad from the crow's nest was clinging onto a ripped sail as he tried to clamber onto the nearest rungs of the wooden post. One of the men had already started climbing up to help him, whilst others stood looking bewildered. "I think it's getting sorted, Capt'n. He didn't fall the whole way down."

"Tell Watson-"

"I think his name is Wilkes."

"Whatever the daft urchin's name is," Hook growled, "tell him he's only got until I turn around to fix whatever bloody mess he's made on my ship. I suspect you understand what I mean when I say that I don't want any more delays to our journey."

"There's no-one here."

"You're a brilliant observer, Smee." Hook sighed. "Let's check inside before making any rash comments."

Hook beckoned two of his men, holding a finger up to his lips before resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. Aside from the distant crashes of waves, the place was pretty quiet. Usually it wouldn't bother him, but the stillness in the air unsettled him. Even in the most desolate buildings, Hook found that he was never usually more than a few feet away from bugs or vermin.

After scanning the area once more, Hook nudged the door open with his boot.

Dust particles floated in the light that filtered in through the doorway. There were a few metal sconces dotted around the room, all holding burnt out torches. To his left, there was a stone spiral staircase leading up into darkness, scattered with bit of straw and hay. If it wasn't for Smee's heavy breathing from behind him, Hook may have felt slightly wary about heading up there. As he braced himself against the inner wall and began side-stepping up the narrow passageway, Hook considered his various escape routes, some involving Smee as cannon fodder.

"Whatever you're looking for, it's not here."

As soon as Hook had heard the feminine voice, he spun around and glided back down the stairwell to face its owner, rapier aimed towards her chest. To his surprise, her chest was barely dressed in scarlet silk and lace. Judging by how the fabric clung to her every curve, uncommon for the usual folk he dealt with, Hook came to the quick assumption that she was going to be a challenge for him. If it weren't for a visibly absent Smee and his two men he hovering a few feet above the ground, wide-eyed and clutching their throats, he may have almost found the situation enjoyable.

"My eyes are up here, lover boy," said the woman in a dry tone. For an instant, there was a glint in her eyes. "Are you sure it was only your hand that the Dark One took?"

Hook clenched his jaw and brought the tip of the sword to her neck. "Don't test me."

At that, the woman scowled and made a wide, sweeping gesture with her hand towards the pirate. Before he had a chance to react, Hook was thinly veiled in a pale blue glow. He tried to strike at her slowly retreating form, but his whole body was left immobile. It was a struggle just to blink. His face was frozen in a permanent glare as she laughed and began circling him like a caged animal. Despite his racing heart and overwhelming desire to cut her smug expression from her face, he was left helpless to her whims.

"I hope that teaches you not to challenge a Queen." She plucked Hook's sword from his hands and examined the edge of the blade. "You can refer to me as Your Majesty. Or, if you decide to play nice so that I won't end your pitiful existence right now, you can call me Regina; your choice."

With an absent wave, Regina removed the spell. Hook staggered backwards as he tried to keep his balance and put some distance between them. Though he wasn't planning on fleeing, especially when his pride and favourite weapon were at stake, Hook could safely bet that this was one of the first times he had ever felt threatened in the presence of a woman, _by_ a woman. It was commonplace for him to be fighting over them, rather than with them.

"Taking a vow of silence, are we?" Regina smirked. "Curious. I didn't pin you for a coward, but you're not exactly pulling off 'silent and deadly', either."

"What do you want, witch?"

"I want to know what you think you're doing here," said Regina, stabbing the sword into the earth and leaning on it. "We're in the middle of nowhere, and your ship just so happened to be headed towards the place where I kept one of my most valuable assets."

"Let them go." Hook quickly glanced over at his men, their faces veiled in sweat. At the very least, they could warn the rest of the ship of the Evil Queen's presence. After Smee's disappearing act, he wasn't fond on relying on the oversized vermin to form a rescue party. When Hook turned back to Regina, he tilted his head down and looked up at her, letting a sly grin slip onto his face. "A sign of good faith, you know?"

Regina narrowed her eyes and released them, though didn't allow her gaze to leave the pirate's. Hook heard a couple of heavy thumps and gasping before the two figures darted out of the room, kicking up a trail of dust behind them. Hook oddly became more at ease as their footsteps quietened, daring to move forward a few steps.

"That's close enough," Regina barked. They were only separated by a few feet. "Tell me what I want to hear."

"I'm looking for a woman," Hook explained, ignoring the burst of laughter. "She was the finest creature I had ever had the grace to lay my eyes upon. She spoke of her dreams and new lands, far beyond a sailor's wildest dreams. The foundations of my mind had been cracked and flooded with a sense of purpose and desire by a single conversation. Then- then he took her from me."

"Who?"

Hook's countenance darkened as he turned to stare out of the open doorway, trying to contain the fire that raged every time he his thoughts were brought to _him_. "The crocodile."

"Rumplestiltskin?" Regina laughed, partly shocked, partly amused. "What business would he have with you? If the rumours are true-" she glanced at his hook "-then he's already had his fair share of revenge."

"Does the Dark One ever need an excuse to wreck more havoc for his own amusement?" He spat. "Besides, he holds me responsible for what happened to Milah; he's levelling the playing field."

"What makes you think she didn't just leave?" Regina raised an eyebrow. "Did you ever consider that she was just not interested?"

Hook opened his mouth to respond, but quickly shut it again. He hadn't thought of that, but he hadn't felt the need to even consider it. There was a glimmer in her eyes, a way that she gravitated towards him and offered every remark as a promise assuring him that the feeling was mutual. To him, the bond they formed was stronger with such words left unspoken. He was willing to bet his life on it.

Hook figured that even if he was wrong, he didn't have much to lose.

"She didn't just leave," he said finally. "I know it."

"Typical," Regina grumbled, rolling her eyes. "That still doesn't explain why you're here."

"I heard that his servant girl was being held here." Ignoring her cautioning glare, Hook sidled closer. He was close enough to snatch back his weapon, if he dared. "She might know of one of his weaknesses, make it easier for me to carve out his heart with my hook."

If there was anything the pirate wasn't expecting, it was for Regina to burst out with a sharp laugh. Her manner shifted as she closed the gap between them, leaving a few inches between their faces. As she smirked at him, Hook noticed just how dark her eyes were.

"You think you can kill him with a bent piece of metal?" Regina chided. "You need something much stronger to kill him, my dear."

Hook grimaced. "What do I need?"

"The dagger bearing his true name," Regina murmured, pulling Hook's sword out of the earth and sliding it back into its holster. Hook clenched his jaw and remained motionless, though his heartbeat quickened. After a moment, she sighed and took a few steps back, distancing herself. "Good luck with finding the damn thing; even my best tracking spells can't hunt it down."

"You must help me find it," he beseeched her, abandoning his composed facade. "There must be something you haven't tried. I'll do anything."

"Anything?" She mused, eying Hook's demeanour.

As much as he hated giving his word, he was ensnared by her. He was desperate.

"Anything."

"Then perhaps we can do business." Regina smirked. "I'll be in touch."

Before Hook had a chance to respond, the woman was consumed by swirling clouds of navy and purple, leaving behind a cold pocket of air in her stead. Despite his mind screaming at him not to trust the witch within an inch of his life, he felt a thrill of excitement wash though him, down to his very core. The danger of the hunt was always more fun than the kill.

He hadn't gotten to the girl in time, but he had possibly gotten the next best thing; an ally. She seemed to be a powerful witch with large influence in her Kingdom, which he may find useful if he found himself in a tough scrape within her land. Most importantly, Hook thought, she had knowledge about how to kill his crocodile. With her potential aid and the magical dagger, he could already almost taste the overwhelming victory of destroying the Dark One and releasing his hold on the blonde maiden.

Just as he was about to head back towards his ship, energized with a new sense of direction, a small, stout figure shadowed the light at the doorway.

"Capt'n?"

Hook sighed and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Go back to the ship."

Smee tightly clutched his red talisman, sweat beading at his temple. "But, sir-"

"Now, Smee," he snarled, causing the man to flinch. "I haven't forgotten how quickly you scarpered when a little trouble showed up. I'll deal with you later."

"Okay, sir."


	7. Chapter 7

"Before you go, how sure are you that she has it?" Emma asked cautiously, slowing to a stop as they reached Henry's house. "The last thing you need is to get grounded for a guess."

Emma didn't feel she was in the best position to be making rash decisions. After her sleep deprived morning led her to imagining seeing Killian, she decided to return to Granny's after walking Henry back to school and listening to his missing storybook theory. She planned and theorised until her mind put on the breaks, falling asleep amidst the scraps of paper. It was only when Henry – fresh out of school and escorted by a disgruntled Granny – banged on her door that she realised she'd slept until the afternoon.

"Just think about it," Henry insisted. "You said Regina remembered everything about the Enchanted Forrest, right?"

"Right."

"So what's to say she's not trying to conceal the evidence and stop us from trying to break the curse?" Henry's voice continued to rise in pitch. "I swear she took it. I always keep my books in the back, supplies and lunch in the front, and it was all messed up this morning; she's the only other one who goes through my bag."

Emma paused for a moment. She didn't like the idea of hedging her bets on a disorganised bag, but unless Henry had left his bag unattended somewhere between tracking down Emma and going to school, they didn't have any other leads. Besides, Henry was a pretty smart kid. He wouldn't have suggested it if he didn't think it at least 80% possible.

"Okay, go for it." Emma sighed and tousled Henry's hair. "I'm going to check up on Belle – Lacey, see if I can find out why she got put on community service. It reveal some other changes in the town."

"Okay. We'll meet at the usual spot tomorrow." Henry grinned and began walking backwards up the path. "But you do know that curiosity killed the cat, right?"

"And satisfaction brought it back," Emma joked, before noticing curtains ruffle from the Mills' upper front window. "Though I think we're going to have to be a lot more subtle about bringing it back."

Henry frowned for a moment, glancing behind him to where Emma was looking. All evidence was gone now, but Emma could almost see the cogs turning in his head before he turned around and flashed a brief smile at her. Then his entire demeanour changed.

"Just leave me alone!" Henry yelled, scrunching his face into a scowl. "I wish you'd never come back."

Emma stood with her mouth agape. She watched as he turned and sprinted up the path, flinging the door open and letting it close with a loud thud, causing the door knocker to noisily rattle to a stop. When Emma swore she could hear the thumps of Regina rushing downstairs, she spun on her heels and made a beeline for Granny's. She wasn't sure she was in the right mindset to deal with Regina right now.

"Real subtle, kid." Emma chucked to herself. "Real subtle."

* * *

It was late evening when Emma found herself standing outside of the sheriff's station. Store owners were just about closing up for the day, the last straggle of passersby walking quickly home to avoid the chill of the evening. The station was still open, but assuming that the closing hours were the same as when she worked there, it wouldn't be for much longer.

Emma sighed. The pin number for the front entrance had changed, and to her dissatisfaction, no-one had been in or out of the building for the half hour she'd been there. She didn't usually mind stakeouts back in Boston, but that was when she had a warm car and a Chinese takeaway. She spent another ten minutes pretending to be on her phone until she heard two voices.

"The plot was a lot better than the last movie."

"But it made no sense!"

"Read the books, Jerry."

When Emma saw the two guys leaving the building, she sidled against the wall of the building, catching the edge of the door before it closed. She quickly glanced behind to see the men still engrossed in their conversation before slipping inside, unnoticed.

The layout was still the same, so Emma had little trouble navigating her way through the corridors to the sheriff's office. She had a moment of panic when she heard two voices coming around one corner, but she just paused and pretended to be pinning up a flyer on the nearest notice board. Luckily for her, they seemed more concerned about the issue of parking fine prices to take note of her.

When she finally reached the office, Emma was relieved to see it empty and unlocked. Only planning for a quick in-and-out job, she just closed the door behind her and pulled down the door blinds. She then made her way over to the cabinet storing criminal records and started rifling through them. If there was a place to find out why Lacey had earned community service without the added rumours and speculation, then this would be the place for it.

There were a lot more folders than she originally expected with a lot of names that she didn't recognise, organised in a thematic, non-alphabetical form. _Great_. With a sigh, she slowly began making her way through them.

"Looking for something?"

Emma froze in her spot. She could recognise that thick accent from a crowd full of people; she'd heard it when he spoke his dying words.

With a deep breath, she closed the drawer and turned to face Graham. He hadn't changed at all since she last saw him. His hair messily flopped onto his forehead, evidence of him running his hands through it after a particularly long and busy day. He still kept a neatly trimmed beard, and his eyes were cautious and guarded as he stood with his hands on his hips. The irrational part of Emma wanted to go over to him and throw her arms around him, relishing the fact that he was very much alive and well.

The rational part of Emma had too many thoughts to keep track of.

When Emma had first entered Storybrooke, she remembered Graham thinking he was going crazy with the visions he was having. It practically drove him to his death. She wondered if it had been another sign of the Curse weakening, and if this Graham would have these visions now, too. He had also been convinced that Regina had his heart. Did Regina still have his heart, or had something changed in the Enchanted Forest that meant that he kept it?

The most prominent thought plaguing Emma was how she was going to explain herself. He was frowning at her now, watching the emotions pass through her in waves.

"Are you okay?" He asked calmly.

"I don't know." Emma responded, not helping looking him over in shock once more. "I think so."

Graham pulled a side smile, his expression relaxing slightly. "You're not a practised thief, are you?"

She pulled a face and shrugged. She didn't want to lie, but she had a feeling that if she revealed her past, he might not be as sympathetic to her cause.

"Take a seat." Graham sat behind his desk and motioned towards the chair on the other side, pulling out some paper from one of the drawers. "You can explain as I file the report, for a Miss?"

"Emma," she muttered, then bit her lip. She didn't know why she expected this to go flawlessly. She didn't know what she had expected even if she had got caught. "Emma Swan."

They spent a few minutes going over her personal details before getting onto the main topic of interest. He scribbled as he spoke: "So why did you trespass and search through confidential files?"

"I wanted to see Lacey's file." Emma arched her chin slightly up, trying to casually catch a glance of what was being written.

"Why couldn't you have asked someone?" Graham sounded bemused, a smile playing on his lips despite his confusion. "I'm not one for gossiping, but the whole town practically knows. She woke half of them up the night she was charged."

Emma closed her eyes and put a hand to the side of her head, massaging her temple in attempt to soothe her growing headache. The laugh that escaped her lips was shrill and brittle, once again shrugging and shaking her head. She didn't know if she was experiencing the delayed effects of portal time travelling, a lack of sleep, or both, but she had had a long and strange day – complete with hallucinations. She was missing her parents, her baby brother, her moody teenage son, Regina's smart remarks and Killian's unrelenting flirting. Heck, she even missed Zelena trying to kill them all.

"I don't know." Emma sighed and looked up. "What I do know is that as soon as you file that report, Regina's going to have me evicted from Granny's. After that, she's going to do everything in her power to stop me from seeing my son-" her face twisted in repulsion "-and I'm going to have to sleep in my car, because I can't go home and I can't leave my son. He's the only person I've got, and no-one understands him like I do."

Graham was silent for a few moments, staring back at Emma with a softened gaze. After some thought, he put down his pen and leaned his elbows on the desk.

"You know that I have to file this report. It's my job, and you're on the cameras." He explained slowly as Emma nodded. "But I like you, so I have a deal."

"What is it?" she asked cautiously.

"You promise not to get yourself into any more trouble, and I'll tell you what I'm legally allowed to about Lacey." Graham paused to grab a scrap of paper from his desk, hastily writing on it before passing it to Emma. "And if you ever find yourself without a bed to sleep in, there's a spare room at my place."

She took the piece of paper with a confused frown. "Why are you doing this? You hardly know me."

"I pride myself on being a good judge of character." Graham chuckled and stretched his limbs before leaning back into his chair. "By the way you talked about your son, it was clear that you really love him. There's something so natural, so sacred about the bond between a parent and their young; it would be wrong for me to come between it in any way. It's like trying to separate a pup from its mother and expecting neither of them to suffer."

All Emma could do was nod and murmur her thanks. She knew that Graham was a generally good guy, she'd seen as much when she first came to Storybrooke. Though even with experience from _her_ Storybrooke, she still wasn't used to the random acts of kindness towards her.

"About Lacey," Graham continued. "Rumour has it that not so long ago, she was roaming the streets with Will after a night of drinking a little too much. They were laughing, having a bit of fun, until something happened and Lacey ended up throwing her shoes and Will. Both missed, and one hit a shop window. Her dad refused to pay, so she's working it off in the library."

"'Will' who?" asked Emma curiously.

"Scarlet."

After a moment's reflection, Emma noted: "That's an awful lot that you're legally allowed to say."

"What can I say?" Graham smirked. "You can learn a lot while playing darts over a pint."

Emma laughed, oddly feeling more at ease. "Thanks, it means a lot."

"So can I escort you out now, Miss Swan, or are you planning on robbing a bank?" Graham teased.

She rolled her eyes. "Not yet."

* * *

"This is bordering on stalking, you know?" Regina sighed and pushed open the glass door, glad to finally escape the briskness of the night air. "I should start paying you instead of Sidney."

"You don't understand," said Killian, his tired voice sounding tinny through the phone. "She's here. I've waited decades to see her again."

Regina knew how she really wanted to respond, but she resisted and held her tongue, even though it was forked and dripping with venom. Her emotions had always been her greatest weakness. Instead, she rolled her eyes as she slowly strolled up to the receptionist desk. "Then why don't you talk to her instead of taking the Sweeny Todd approach?"

"I can't." She was surprised to hear his voice crack when he spoke. There were a few moments of muffled noises before he spoke again. "I'll talk to you later."

Before she had a chance to respond, Regina could hear the dialling tone drone into her ear. She frowned and shoved the phone into her coat pocket, then snapped her fingers the get receptionist's attention. She was young, fair hair cut just above her shoulders. Her back straightened as she pushed stray hairs behind her ears, turning to give Regina her full attention. Despite her calm composure, her fingers quickly drummed against her desk.

"Has anyone else been to visit since I last came?" Regina asked in a sharp tone.

"No," she said, though hesitating for a moment. She quickly glanced at her computer and bit her lip. "Though we did note a brief change in activity."

Regina's heartbeat increased, feeling a growing sense of dread rise within her. Change was usually a good sign if someone was in a coma. In this circumstance, Regina felt fearful and livid; fearful in case true identities were discovered, livid because it was a sign of the spell weakening. She had already noticed some small changes, such as the clock tower chiming as she walked to her office in the morning. For the first time since the Curse was set, she felt almost powerless.

It was all because of Emma Swan.

If Regina felt hatred anything more than the intense inferno in which Snow White sparked every time the wretched woman so much as breathed in her direction, Swan would be it. Not only had the town's routine slowly began to change, but Killian had become a lot more distant. If it were not for him pausing to eat, sleep or change clothes, she would barely see him anymore; he'd coincidentally always be out where _she_ was. The only perk Regina could see was that whilst Killian was practising his stalker routine, he was less aware of what she did.

"Change in which monitor?" Regina asked cautiously.

"Both."

Regina exhaled a deep breath through her nose and stormed off up the stairs, heels loudly clicking in the silent corridors. She only slowed and quietened as she walked down the ward of sleeping patients, not wanting to risk having a gossiping audience. As she came to the end of the ward, she paused in front of the ICU, sectioned off by glass walls. She paused to check for onlookers before pushing the door and stepping inside.

She sauntered towards the nearest bed connected to a series of machines and monitors, picked up its file and scanned through the pages until she noticed the irregularity. His heartbeat fluctuated early hours the previous morning. No-one had been in the room to report it, and it hadn't been a vast enough change to trigger a warning alert. It had been noted by one of the nurses later on the same morning, signed off by Dr. Whale, and left at that.

After checking the rest of the file and finding no more irregularities, Regina sighed and replaced the file. 'John Doe' was never supposed to have lived when she cast the Curse. Snow White was supposed to come here a widow, ensuring a little more security for her Dark Curse. The only solace Regina received from the situation was knowing that Snow was oblivious to who David actually is. She knew that Snow – or in this land, Mary Margaret – volunteered her spare time in the hospital, and had seemingly paid no more attention to this ward than any of the others.

Regina felt a small jolt of satisfaction. Perhaps 'true love' isn't the strongest kind of magic after all.

Turning towards the other bed in the room, any positive feelings Regina did have quickly drained out of her. In it lay a man with greying, shoulder-length hair. His face was lined with age, though looked somewhat peaceful in its sleeping state. After checking his file, Regina noted that the change in his activity was nearly identical to David's. She tutted and shook her head, staring down at the old man.

"If you weren't so stubborn, you might not be here, _dearie_." Regina smirked at the last word, taking a moment to relish how the balance of power had changed. "But if he knew that you were still alive and kicking, he wouldn't waste a second in shedding the crocodile's skin again."

At that, Regina hooked his file onto the end of the bed and strolled out, letting the glass door swing softly shut behind her.


	8. Chapter 8

"Is this the smartest move, Capt'n?" Smee wheezed. "Ambushing his place of rest?"

Hook groaned. "You really are a thorn in my side, Smee."

"But-"

"Look, we're not dead yet, are we?" Hook snapped, turning around to see Smee slowly clambering up the slope. "The sooner we discover this magical dagger, the sooner you can go back to bothering the deckhands and clearing the vermin from my ship."

Smee nodded, taking a deep breath before latching on to the nearest branch to haul himself up. He didn't like what this search for the girl was doing to the Captain. Ever since he'd spoken to Maurice he's been taking more risks, becoming almost careless with his actions. Smee liked the occasional adrenaline rush from danger. It made him feel alive amongst his fears, free almost, but not like this.

If Hook became even more reckless than he is being now – which Smee thought entirely likely considering where they were headed – he wasn't sure he wanted to be around when Hook's demons finally caught up with him. The man would fight with his life to get what he wanted, sacrificing himself and anyone else who got in his way.

"We're almost here."

Smee stopped short, almost losing his balance as he tried not to bump into Hook's back. He glanced behind him and gulped.

The mountain slope was a lot steeper looking down at it than it had been looking up. From here, he could make out some of the winding path that they made as they climbed up, hacking away at the forest overgrowth as they went. It was lighter up here; there were more breaks in the leafy ceiling, and they could just about see patches of grey clouds up above. As the cold breeze began to get a bit more nippy, Smee breathed into his hands and wished he'd thought to wear something a bit warmer than just a burlap jacket.

Hook took a few more steps forward towards a small clearing, stopping when he reached the edge and half-concealing himself when he crouched amongst the shrubbery. Confused, Smee stared at him for a few moments before joining him. When he did, he realised why Hook hadn't said anything else.

From this angle, he could see a side section of Rumplestiltskin's castle as the trees ahead became sparser. It was everything to be expected of the Dark One's abode, yet still a complete surprise.

They had half expected a dilapidating building covered in moss and vines with long-abandoned gardens. While what they saw wasn't exactly a gleaming white palace fit for a king, it was still overwhelmingly grand with sleek stone slabs and glass-paned windows that reflected light at every angle. The luscious grass was neatly trimmed and edged with blooming flowerbeds for as far as they could see, giving the impression of an eternal summer's day despite the dark clouds looming overhead.

"This can't be right," Smee spluttered. "This can't be it."

Hook stared straight ahead. "We're here."

"It can't be!" Smee protested, standing up and moving towards the clearing to get a better look. "Even if it was, you don't think he'd just _leave_ it here, do you?"

The man had only made a few steps before he felt something on his belt yank him backwards, causing him to topple ungracefully onto the hard ground. He winced as he looked up, finding himself sat next to a very unhappy pirate.

"We have been searching on land for weeks," Hook uttered seethingly, "for a castle on the outskirts of the Enchanted Forest. The bloody witch who told us about the dagger hasn't shown herself since, and do you know how many other leads we had apart from the one from that wretched Maurice?"

Smee cowered and shook his head. "None, sir."

"Excellent, Smee!" Hook laughed and stood up, beginning a slow pace back and forth to the spot where Smee was sat. "And how long have we been searching for this castle ever since, Smee?"

He cringed. "I don't know, sir."

"Take a guess." Hook lifted his arms and gestured around. "How long have we been searching for a castle – or just any place, really – that vaguely fits the description that that weasel of a man gave to us?"

"A few weeks?"

Hook shook his head. "5 weeks and 3 days. It would be exactly 6 weeks today if you counted those days that we wasted trying to find the blasted girl he kept in servitude for however many years."

A sad look flashed across the pirate's face. The girl didn't deserve to be damned to serving the Dark One for the rest of her days - her father was the coward that let her go, only to later beg pirates and thieves for the freedom he took from her. Seeing another father abandon his young was almost too much to handle.

"We find that servant girl and set her free after we find my lass." Hook's voice turned hoarse as he began picking his way through the edge of the clearing. "Pick yourself up, lad; we're going to find a way in."

"But-"

"Did I ask for your opinion, Smee?" He barked.

"I'm sorry, Capt'n," Smee said sheepishly, cheeks ablaze as he scrambled to his feet and stumbled trying to keep up. "I won't question you anymore."

After spending a considerable amount of time either hacking their way through the outskirts of the forest surrounding the castle, or peering through a small telescope in order to find a suitable opening, Hook and Smee eventually made a dash towards the right corner at the back of the castle, going down the steps that would conceal them from being out in plain sight. Down the steps on their right was a basement door with two small windows either side, both left slightly ajar. To their left was a pile of rotten vegetables and various peelings, assumingly to use in the gardens at some point.

The room was mostly dark when Hook peered in through the window, though could just about make out that they were likely to be in the kitchen of the servants' quarters. There were basic wooden furnishings scattered around, though the countertops were flush with fresh herbs and vegetables; there was enough in there to feed an entire army, let alone one lonely man.

Hook stepped back and drew out his map, beginning to make rough markings of where the castle was and which was the best way to enter it from.

"Get the door for me, will you?" Hook mumbled, frowning as he twisted the map around.

Smee nodded and quickly tried the handle. After twisting it a few times, he turned back to Hook. "It's locked."

"You think a magic fairy would have it unlocked for us as soon as we came here?" Hook sighed and flashed him a quick glare at him before returning to his work. "Try the window."

Smee eyed the window on the right of the door cautiously and prodded it slightly with his hand. When it swung inwards slightly, Smee frowned and moved closer. He leaned over the window and poked his head in, squinting as he tried to look around for some sort of key or another opening. Finding none, he eventually settled on jumping and stretching as he tried to knock the door off the latch from the inside.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Hook hissed, not taking his eyes from the map.

Smee blushed as he turned around. "I can't get in."

"What do you mean, you can't get in?"

"Captain," Smee mumbled and squirmed under his glare, " _I can't get in_."

Hook frowned and glanced up. He saw a round-bodied Smee next to a small, rectangular window and was promptly reminded of a wooden toy when children try to jam the circle through the square hole. Sighing, he rolled up his map and put away his ink and quill.

Without a word, he pushed Smee aside and opened the window shutters completely, resting his hands on the ledge as he judged what would be the best way to get in. There was a wash basin just beneath the window, so he would either need to step onto it or jump over it in order to pass with ease. However, that was quickly ruled out of the question after a few failed attempts to hitch his lef up and enter gracefully.

"Bloody hell," Hook groaned and looked at Smee. "Crouch down in front of the window."

He complied obligingly, and Hook took a wobbly step onto the man's back. After a few more grunts and groans, he finally submitted and did what he didn't want to do; launch himself in head-first.

Hook secured his hands on the bottom corners of the window and propelled himself forwards with all the force he could muster whilst standing on a wobbly surface. He didn't quite manage to do it with all of the strength he needed, so he scraped his back along the wooden edge the basin was propped upon, banging his head against the floor as he landed heavily on his shoulders.

Hook let out a loud groan through gritted teeth.

"Capt'n?" Smee cried. "Capt'n! Are you alright?"

In a frantic haze, he grabbed onto the door handle for leverage and shoved all of his weight against it. Just as he opened his mouth to call out to his companion again, his face paled as the door swung open and went crashing to the ground.

Smee landed next to Hook, just inches away from crushing the man entirely with heavy fall. The pirate winced as he looked at him in horror and confusion, watching the man roll over on to his back and cradle his left arm.

"What the bloody hell happened?" Hook exclaimed.

Smee let out a long moan. "I opened the door."

After a few minutes of grunting and checking if they hadn't made any permanent damage, the duo quietly navigated their way through the basement until they found the stairs to the ground floor. Hook cautiously took lead, keeping close to the walls and peering around every corner once he was sure that he couldn't hear a noise coming from the next room. Once they were on the main floor, the searching began.

The place was filled with grand furnishings, delicate trinkets and strange objects. About half of the rooms they first searched were in darkness, the curtains completely drawn over and blocking any trickle of light from the afternoon sun, causing the pair to bump into each other every now and then. The other half of the rooms they visited were brightly lit and offered a warm welcoming, as if the building was actually a home of a warm and loving family. Most of the lit rooms were accompanied by large fireplaces and velvet sofas with a few books scattered around. Hook picked a couple up, but he found that most were either fictitious or in a language he didn't understand.

Eventually they reached a dining room that was considerably smaller than some of the others they came across. Sunlight filtered in through the northern windows, creating a pattern of crosshatched shadows across the room. The cabinets here were filled with seemingly random objects in comparison to either the sets of swords or silver cutlery in the other rooms, indicating to the two men that this was a room worth being thorough in.

"Look around, Smee," Hook murmured. "See if you can find anything of value to us."

Smee nodded and began picking his way through the nearest drawers as Hook made his way over to one of the larger cabinets. The first item he picked up was a grey marbled egg, which looked to be for show more so than anything else. There was another book propped up on a stand, but he couldn't understand any of the writings in it. There were some pictures of plants and pictures depicting people crying, and Hook could only imagine it was one of those cursed spell books. He shivered uncomfortably and replaced it to its original position, choosing to rifle through some of the other items.

Smee sighed as he shut the last drawer, finding nothing of significance to help their plight. He turned around to check on Hook's progress, and he pulled a half-grin as he saw the man with a gleaming sword in his hand making various stabbing and swishing motions. Just as he was about to go on to the next set of drawers, a silver object atop of a wooden podium caught his eye. As Smee moved closer, he realised that it was a heavy looking gauntlet. Both confused and intrigued by the display piece, he picked it up and began examining it.

It was a lot lighter than he had expected it to be, but it looked sturdy enough to provide a decent amount of protection in battle. There were no exceptional qualities about its external appearance – it looked very similar to the ones on the armour stands dotted around the castle – so Smee was even more curious as to why this one had been singled out. Just as he had slipped it on his hand to see how it fitted, Hook appeared from behind him.

"Playing the knight in shining armour?" Hook joked, taking Smee's gloved hand in his and looking at it. "What's so special about this piece, then?"

"I-I don't know," Smee stammered, waggling his fingers a little. "It's the only one that's not with a complete set."

They were both quiet for a moment as they frowned at it. Smee was about to take it off after a few anti-climactic moments when he suddenly felt a warm, pulsing sensation in his right hand. He gasped, instinctively holding his arm further away from his body.

"What is it?" Hook asked, furrowing his brow.

Smee just shook his head with his mouth agape as he looked at it. The odd sensation went away as quickly as it game, but he now felt as if his hand was magnetised and pulling him towards something. He spun around to face the door, finding the pulling feeling a little less strong when he faced that direction.

"It's like it's trying to lead me somewhere," Smee said, his eyes wide. After a moment, he pulled it off his hand and passed it to Hook. As soon as he did so, the pulling feeling stopped. "You try it."

Hook was a little wary, but he gently slipped on the gauntlet onto his right hand; a perfect fit.

Hook waited and showed the same surprised face as Smee when he felt the pulsing sensation come and go, eventually leading on to the pulling. Hook took a 90 degree left turn and faced the sparsely decorated corner of the room, almost opposite to where they were first standing. He frowned and looked down at it, twisting his hand to get a better look at different angles.

"The thing is enchanted." Hook's voice was quieter and more hesitant. "It looks like it points the user in a direction they need to go in."

"But what does it do?" asked Smee.

"I'm not sure," Hook admitted, "but I know who we can ask to find out."

Hook flexed his fingers in the gauntlet a couple more times before slowly sliding it off and attaching it to a loop on his belt. "Let's go."

Rumple frowned as he watched the two men exit out of the main hall, constantly scanning their surroundings for any signs of movement. It had been fun spelling the door shut to watch the pirate scramble through the window, only lifting the spell moments after he tumbled onto floor. The frustrated look he gave the other bumbling fool as he simply twisted the handle to open the door elicited a giddy laugh that almost gave away his position.

If only they had looked up.

He'd been expecting Hook to pay him a visit ever since he heard some villagers talk of a group of pirates terrorizing local taverns in search of his castle. He had sitting on top of his roof every day since, just waiting. When he saw them climbing the hill, he set his plan into action.

Merlin's gauntlet was almost useless to him at this point; no matter how much he wanted it to lead him to Baelfire or Belle, it would always point him back in the direction of his dagger. Knowing this, he placed it upon the podium knowing that one of them would be foolish enough to think that he would leave something of value or importance out in the open. Discovering Hook's weakness and distracting him from his search of the dagger was almost too good an opportunity to pass.

He knew that Regina was conspiring against him – he'd had that suspicion for a while now. It was better for her believe she her ally was a useful one than finding a stronger one.

Rumple hopped down from the ceiling rafters and landed with a soft thud next to the empty podium. He opened the small compartment underneath it and took out a small object, cradling it in his hands for a few moments before delicately positioning it on the stand. He ran his finger over the chip wistfully before he began humming and going back to spinning the wheel.


	9. Chapter 9

Emma groaned and tried to stretch away the aches she felt across her entire body as she slowly began to wake. Sleeping in her car did have the advantage of not having to pay for a room at Granny's since her recent endeavors at the Sheriff's office inevitably let to Regina kicking her out of the bed and breakfast, but sleeping in an upright position every night for almost a week was starting to take a toll on her back – and her personal hygiene.

Despite being in alternate Storybrooke for just over a week, Emma was no closer to discovering the truth about what had changed in her trip to the past or how to fix it. She dove head first into her research, pouring over every archive and dull news article the library had to offer, and the most she found out about was a controversial rise in road tax. Even gossiping with Lacey on her breaks was woefully unsuccessful, only learning menial drunken tales about people with names she vaguely recognized.

Glancing over at the stack of papers on the passenger seat, Emma thought about all of the character profiles she had created in the past couple of days, comparing lives of everyone in this Storybrooke to her Storybrooke as she encountered them. Much to her dismay, the results led her to believe that there had not been any drastic changes for the town's Cursed residents.

Apart from one.

* * *

Emma knew that if word got back to Regina about what she was doing, the woman would definitely suspect that Emma was onto her and make life even more difficult for her than it already was. Aware that she probably had Sidney Glass or some other lackey tracing her every move, Emma made sure to venture out in the very early hours of the morning to minimise the risk. She knew she could just ask Henry to check for her, but she didn't want to involve him any more than he already was. Plus, this was just something she wanted to do herself.

After tripping off the alarm at the rear of the building, Emma skulked past the receptionist making irritated phone calls to the head of security and slipped upstairs. Once she had reached the right floor and was sure no-one was following her, she took down her hood and made a beeline towards the sectioned-off room at the end of the corridor.

She smiled sadly as she sat on the edge of David's bed, taking one of his hands and holding it firmly between hers, as though drawing strength from it. She hated seeing him in this state, but Emma had to admit that she was partly relieved to see a familiar face that wasn't going to look back at her like a stranger.

She made sure her visit was brief, conscious of the fact that she only had a few minutes before staff realized nothing was wrong and went back to her stations. Emma quickly wiped her eyes and turned to leave when she noticed that David wasn't the only comatose patient being kept in this room. She was almost afraid to blink as she cautiously walked towards the other man hooked up to a dozen blinking machines.

"Gold?"

* * *

"Emma!"

The shouting, accompanied by a knocking on the passenger window, swiftly pulled Emma out of her daydreaming. She sighed as she moved her papers to the backseat and unlocked the car doors.

"Hey, kid." Emma said as Henry climbed in, frowning at the clock on her dash. "Why are you here so early?"

"It's the jumble-bake sale for the library. You said you were coming, right?" Henry asked.

"Right." She started clearing the back seat of the papers and putting them beneath her seat, out of sight if anyone were to peer inside. "Why aren't you with Regina?"

Emma noticed a shift in Henry's demeanour. "She has work meetings all day, as usual."

Regina may still be considered the 'evil' mayor at this point, but she was still Henry's mother. Emma could only imagine the amount of birthday parties and school recitals she'd missed out on because of work commitments. As mature as Henry is, every kid still wants someone cheering them on from the sidelines; Emma knew the feeling all too well.

"Then let's get going," Emma said with a smile. "It's a prime opportunity to execute the next phase of Operation Mamba."

As Emma and Henry walked into the main function room in Storybrooke's town hall, Emma was surprised to see just how big a community event this was. Stalls were tightly packed into whatever space was available for them, and despite it being fairly early on a Saturday morning, it seemed as if half the town were already here. The room was buzzing with conversations of locals catching up with one another, slowly circling the room as they made their way around the thematically categorized stalls.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed due to only being awake no more than half an hour, Emma headed straight towards the refreshments to buy herself a coffee and Henry a hot chocolate.

To her surprise, Mary Margaret was one of the volunteers on this station. Emma had only spoken to her once or twice when meeting Henry outside school, but she was as pleasant and welcoming to her as she had been the first time Emma had met her. They didn't get much time to chat, but Emma managed to get her number for any emergencies after using the excuse that she didn't trust Regina to give her any important updates regarding Henry. It was partly true that she didn't trust Regina, but Emma felt better knowing she had a way of contacting her in any circumstance.

"I'm so glad you could make it, Emma." Mary Margaret said as she passed over their drinks. "Henry's been looking forward to it for weeks."

"I can see why." Emma glanced around the room. "I didn't realise the whole town would be here."

Mary Margaret chuckled. "We try to have at least one big event a year, keep the community spirit alive."

"Are there any other activities in the community coming up that I should be keeping an eye out for?" Emma asked.

"Unless those activities involve the charming presence of yours truly, I wouldn't bother," said a familiar voice from behind her. "One coffee, please."

Emma's head jerked as she turned to face the culprit, who was standing alarmingly closer than expected. She realized just in time to take a small step back to avoid bumping her head against his chest, though she lost balance slightly as she knocked against the table behind her.

"Careful, love." Killian smirked as his arm jolted out to catch her elbow, steadying her. "I know it's hard not to be bowled over by my dashing good looks, but you really ought to be more careful."

"Killian?" Emma exclaimed, unsure of whether to be annoyed or relieved to see her leather-clad companion.

At this point, Emma had pretty much given up hope of finding either Killian or the mysterious woman that they rescued; she had seen neither hide or hair of the both of them up this point. Through her extensive search through publicly available town records and walking around the town itself whilst talking to some of its inhabitants, the only major telltale sign that things have changed was how Gold was now in the hospital and Belle was out wrecking minor havoc. How were they only just meeting now?

"So, you've heard of me then?" Killian's eyes lit up curiously.

Emma's heart sank.

Her whole plan of escape had been planned out and shattered in a few brief moments. She imagined finally teaming up with her pirate, waking up Gold, and finding some magic to somehow leave the town without going through the chaos of breaking the curse. She had one component of the plan standing right in front of her, but with one fatal flaw – he either somehow lost his memories of their escapades through the portal and Emma didn't, or they majorly messed up in the past and somehow her Killian had ended up cursed and in Storybrooke instead of in the Enchanted Forest.

Judging by her luck during the past week, Emma opted for the latter option.

"Henry might have mentioned you once," Emma stammered, "briefly. When we were catching up on things I've missed so far."

"Has he now?" Killian raised an eyebrow and let go of Emma's arm, stepping back to glance at Henry. "And what has the lad been saying about me?"

"Oh, you know," Emma struggled as she looked down at a mildly confused Henry. "Just helping me get familiar with some names within the town."

Henry frowned. "Why aren't you in the meeting with mom?"

"I'm on my way. I just fancied popping by to see what all the fuss was about." Killian ruffled Henry's hair before returning a last smouldering gaze to Emma, extending his hand towards her. "I'll see you around, Miss?"

"Emma," she said, firmly shaking his hand. "Emma Swan."

"See you around, Emma."

Killian held on a fraction longer after the handshake had ended before taking his coffee from Mary Margaret and snaking his way through the crowds. Emma eyes followed him until he was out of sight before turning back towards the refreshments table.

If anything, Emma was glad to see that Killian was still as painfully flirty as before.

"It's probably not my place to say," said Mary Margaret apprehensively. "But you should probably stay away from Killian Jones."

Emma frowned, her heartbeat picking up. "Why?"

"He's-" Mary Margaret for thought "-he's bad news. He basically runs this town; pretty much everyone is scared around him. If you think Regina is bad, you haven't seen what he is capable of."

"Noted." Emma nodded. "Thank you for telling me."

"Good." She smiled. "Now you and Henry go enjoy yourselves! Take a look around some of the stalls."

Emma muttered her thanks again as she took Henry's hand – much to his protest – and walked swiftly towards one of the corners of the hall that was being used for spare boxes of stuff to be laid out if tables were to become sparse throughout the day. When they were reasonably out of earshot of any potential eavesdroppers, she turned towards her son and dropped down until she was at his height.

"You didn't tell me that _he_ was here." Emma scolded lightly.

"Who?" Henry shot back defensively. "Killian?"

"Yes, Killian." She lowered her voice as a group walked past them. "Captain Hook, you know? The guy I travelled through time with?"

The boy's eyes lit up excitedly as Emma told him. "That's Captain Hook? I've been trying to figure out who he is forever! He has two hands, so I ruled him out as a pirate, and you never mentioned that his actual name was Killian."

Emma's head started spinning with so many thoughts and questions, it was hard to keep track of them all and prioritize which one she wanted to ask Henry first. How did he run the town? Did Regina know this? How did he even end up here? Eventually, she settled on one: "He has two hands?"

Henry nodded. "Yep. Both real, too."

"Okay." She took a deep breath trying to calm herself. "Tell me what you know about him."

"He owns a lot of the businesses in the town, so he's one of the top of the town's advisors and goes to a lot of the meetings. He scares a lot of people because he's very strict with his business and gets annoyed pretty quickly." Henry suddenly screwed up his face. "And I think he's sort of dating my mom, but she always tells me that they're just 'very good friends'."

"It wouldn't be the first." Emma muttered to herself. "Okay kid, I'm going to ask you a really big favour."

"Shoot."

Emma took out some cash from her pocket and handed it to Henry. "Have a good look around these stalls, get yourself whatever you want and I'll meet up with you later. Now that I know Killian's here, I think I have a lead to run with, but I have to get all my thoughts out now."

Henry beamed. "Phase 2 of Operation Mamba is a go."

Emma smiled and kissed Henry's forehead before weaving her way through the crowds towards the exit. She was almost at the doors when a particular stall caught her eye. To most passersby, it was the junk stall with odd bits and bobs that didn't quite fit onto any of the others. However, Emma recognised some of the items as being things from Gold's shop: the wooden windmill, the creepy dolls with eyes that seemed to follow your every move, various orbs, small trinkets.

The thing that mostly caught her eye was a small, chipped teacup hanging from a shiny metal hook. At first, she thought it was ironic that the two items treasured by two deadly foes should be arranged in such a way. Then her eyes lit up as her mind made a potential link between how their fates may have intertwined in the past to lead to Mr. Gold being a ghost in hospital and Hook being the new leader of the town. Emma's bigger worry was what she did that led to this reality.

"Can I have these, please?" Emma asked, hastily getting the right change out of her pocket.

"You want this too?" The stall manager asked in a gruff voice, pulling a ring from out of the teacup.

Emma's heart skipped a beat. Someone had to have purposely arranged those three items together. "Yes, the ring too."

She gave him the cash and grabbed the paper bag before rushing out, wanting to get all of her new information and ideas out on paper before she had a chance to forget any of them.

Barely making a step out of the doors and into the mid-morning sunshine, an otherwise preoccupied Emma collided head first with someone. The jolt knocked the hot drink in her hands, and though she had good enough reflexes to keep a firm hold on it, it didn't stop the liquid from sloshing over the sides of the lidless cup and covering her in coffee.

"I am so, so sorry," Emma apologised, staring helplessly at the mess.

"In a bit of a hurry, Miss Swan?" Graham joked. "Don't worry, it looks as if the only major casualty here is your clothes."

"A little." Emma smiled, already edging her way past the sheriff. "Sorry again, I'll make it up to you."

"Stop!"

She froze as he grabbed her arm, looking down at it with mild annoyance. If she hadn't just nearly spilled coffee all over him instead of just herself, she would have protested against the second dose of arm-grabbing she had experienced that day.

"What?" Emma asked.

"You can make it up to me now," Graham paused as he reached into his pocket, "by taking this key and claiming one of the couches in my apartment."

"Graham-"

"Before you protest, it will only be for one night if you want. Just long enough for you to shower and get a proper meal down you." He smirked and glanced behind her. "Then you can go back to sleeping in that very comfortable looking car of yours."

Emma grinned, reluctantly taking the key from him. "Thanks, Graham. I really appreciate it."

"Any time," he said. "I'll see you there when my shift ends."

With that, he turned and headed back towards the building. Emma felt the warmth of a kind gesture run through her, as well as the giddy feeling of finally being able to have a thorough wash rather than having to make do with public restrooms. She continued grinning as she skipped down the steps and got into her car, searching the glovebox for the address he had written down for her during their first untimely meeting.

* * *

Henry handed over the money and beamed up at Leroy as he was handed his paper bag, calling out his thanks as he turned and began walking away. It might not have been the exact thing that Emma had in mind when she told Henry to get whatever he wanted, but he was pleased with the outcome nevertheless.

"I've always wanted tone of those."

Henry looked up and saw a boy with shoulder length brown hair looking at his bag. He looked a little bit older than Henry, which explained why he didn't at first recognise him. Henry thought he might have seen the boy at school before, but he couldn't be sure.

"Thanks, it's for secret operation." He explained.

"Cool." The boy grinned, then gestured nervously. "Could I give it a try?"

Henry didn't hesitate in pulling one of the walkie talkies out and showing him how it worked, mimicking the exact words Leroy had said to him moments earlier. "And make sure to say 'over' when you're finished speaking."

The boy pulled the device up to his mouth: "Be careful Snake, there are security cameras all over that place. Over."

"Do they know I'm here for Metal Gear? Over."

The boys carried on like this for ten minutes, occasionally laughing at how the other person's voice sounded through the tinny speakers of the talkie and eventually creating an operation of their own as they navigated their way through the stalls and towards the section for the bake sale.

"That was fun," the boy said, handing back the talkie before taking a bite out of a blueberry muffin.

"It was." Henry smiled, extending his hand towards him. "I'm Henry."

The boy shook it happily. "I'm Liam."


	10. Chapter 10

"Please," the man wheezed, clutching at the pirate's arm as he struggled against him. "Have mercy."

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

Hook tightened his vice-like grip around his neck, twisting his head slightly to the side as he listened to the quiet, raspy breaths. Just as he was ready to finish him off, Hook was interrupted by a fairly loud whooshing noise and a blast of purple smoke. He looked up with a smirk as he saw the enraged face of a dark haired witch storm towards him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Regina demanded.

As she extended her hand towards the pair, Hook felt the man being ripped from his grasp and flung into nearby barrels. Aside from some minor bruising and a damaged ego, he looked as though he'd make a pretty fast recovery; as much couldn't be said for his companions laying unconscious on the ground.

"What does it look like?" Hook smirked, gesturing at the bodies on the ground. "I'm getting your attention."

"By murdering my guards?" She snarled.

"Well, technically they're not dead." Hook nudged one of the men before strolling towards Regina. "Not yet, anyway. They're just getting a well deserved nap for all of the hard work they've been doing for you, Your Majesty."

Though Regina tried to maintain her anger, her façade slipped slightly out of admiration for his handiwork. She usually prided herself on hiring the best soldiers the land had to offer, yet his pirate had quite literally taken down six of her men single-handedly. He may be rash in his decisions and annoyingly dedicated to his quest to find this bar wench, but the man knew how to fight.

"No more stalling." The Queen ordered, straightening her spine and eyeing up Hook. "Why did you call for me?"

As Hook unhooked the silver gauntlet from his belt, he noticed Regina's eyes light up with curiousity and wonder. She immediately strode over to him, swiftly the piece of armour from him and examining it with her hands. After a few minutes of staring, Regina eventually put on the glove, holding it up towards the sky and admiring it's glint in the sunlight. Hook could only imagine that she too felt the warm, pulsating feeling flowing through her hand when a smile crept onto her face.

"You have no idea what you've found, do you?" Regina murmured.

"That's what I was hoping you'd tell me."

"This," said Regina, stepping closer to Hook so that he could get a better look at it, "is Merlin's gauntlet. Rumour has it that this object is enchanted with magic that will lead you in the direction of your one true weakness. The closer you are-" Regina paused to turn her back on Hook, aiming her hand towards the forest depths "-the stonger the pull."

"Do you think it can help me find my maiden?" Hook asked quickly, moving to stand beside Regina. "Will it lead me to her?"

Regina frowned. She had never been a fan of the 'true love' lark, and it was becoming increasingly sickening the more time she spent around the lovesick pirate. Her only hope was that she could endure his intolerable whining long enough to find a shortcut to her own happiness – making Snow miserable.

"If she is actually your one true weakness, then yes." Regina then narrowed her eyes as she stared up at the pirate. "How did you manage to obtain such an object, anyway? I can imagine it was heavily guarded."

He shook his head, touching some of the metal palm. He couldn't feel the buzzing, but he knew it was there. "It was lying in Rumple's castle, empty and alone. Smee and I simply took the damn thing and left."

Hook staggered back as Regina suddenly recoiled from him in horror, making the gauntlet disappear in a puff of purple smoke within the same instant. Despite his angered protests at potentially losing control over the one object that may proved to be his vantage point in obtaining the girl or establishing a lead in his hunt for the crocodile, Regina continued to ignore him, trying to think of all the ways she could save her skin if Rumple were to ever confront her about it.

"Do you really think that the Dark One would leave such a powerful object unattended?" Regina said, spitting her words out like fine knives. "What kind of amateur do you think he is?"

"One that has vastly underestimated us," Hook retorted, sighing heavily. "Look, are you going to help me or not? Because I'd much rather be sent on my merry way and have you stop wasting my time that could be better spent searching for something that's actually going to be useful."

Hook watched as her anger turned into surprise, which then melted into deep thought as she eyed him up and down. He began to feel the hairs raise on the back of his spine as she began circling him, but managed to keep a steely composure, even when she trailed her hand across his back before settling on his chest. Even if his posture didn't give him away, his heartbeat surely did.

They stood there for a few seconds, but Hook could count each of his heartbeats, each breath he took as she stood there in front of him. The electric running through his veins definitely signaled that he was having an adrenaline rush, but he didn't register the feeling entirely as fear. He'd felt fear when he was a boy and his captain stood over him with a whip in hand. Though this women was potentially more dangerous than a thousand men with whips, his natural instinct told him that she wouldn't harm him – he was more terrified of that thought than the witch herself.

"Tell you what, I'll cut you a deal," Regina said eventually, backing away and taking Hook's adrenaline rush with her. He looked at her clearly and intently as she spoke. "If the gauntlet leads you to the girl, then we'll arrange some form of payment for you wasting my time. If it leads you to your crocodile, then you've just earned yourself a powerful ally who could really use a permanent tracker on him.

Hook watched hesitantly as Regina poofed back the gauntlet and handed it to him.

"Take this with you." Regina pulled out a small, wooden cylinder about the size of her thumb. "The moment you arrive at the location it's guided you to, blow onto this. It'll allow me to see where you are so that we can decide on our next step."

"And if it's neither of those things?" He asked.

"Well," said Regina with a smirk. "I guess we'll just have to find out."

The Evil Queen then flexed her wrist, surrounding herself in a swirling cloud of purple smoke and vanishing. Hook looked around at the bodies of royal guards surrounding him, listening to their groans, unsure of what exactly he had just let himself in for.

* * *

"How much further do you think it is, Capt'n?"

"For the last bloody time, Smee," Hook growled. "I don't know. All I do know is that we have to keep walking until something happens, or until I find my greatest weakness."

Since leaving Regina, Hook had been wearing the gauntlet in hopes of finding the trail's end. He had sailed as fast and as far as he could on the Jolly Roger, but only got so far before he started losing the warm, pulsating feeling in his hand, meaning the rest had to be travelled by foot. Deciding it best to keep his frailities hidden from his crew, he instructed his men to keep guard over his ship as he ventured out with Smee.

Though Hook would have preferred travelling alone, having a companion there did have his perks. He was adept at navigating the seas and running a tight ship, having only had to deal with the occasionally rowdy sailor with no signs of mutiny so far, but Hook knew Smee was far superior when traversing forests and villages. Despite his incessant ramblings, he was glad to have the man with him to tell him when he was about to wander into a swamp or unnecessarily climb that really big hill.

Besides, the wee fellow wouldn't have lasted five minutes alone with the crew on that ship.

"Have you ever been in love, Captain?" Smee asked quietly.

"Of course I have," Hook exclaimed, frowning at the question. "What on earth made you ask that?"

Smee went quiet for a few minutes as he thought, then replied: "Are you in love with the girl?"

For a moment, it was as if the gauntlet had spread it's warmth and pulsating sensations throughout his entire body, encapsulating him in a pleasant glow as he speculated the thought of finding love in this girl; especially as he had suffered such heartache with Milah.

"Let's stop here for a moment," Hook muttered. He drew out a map from his satchel and handed it to Smee. "Make sure we're on the right path."

After mumbling his obligences, Smee backed up against a tree for leverage and started calculating their position. Hook observed the strange sense of calm he perceived from being in such a quiet section of the forest, surrounded by dozens of different shades of green, with splatters of colour ebbing out from the overgrowth. Though the trees covered the majority of their view of the sky, something that always made Hook feel slightly uneasy about when feeling lost, he did admire the way some light managed to slip through the leaves and create a speckled pattern on the forest floor.

Experiencing a beauty so odd to him caused his mind to slip back to the women at the bar, reminding him of how the green flecks in her eyes shone above the flicker of a candle. It also reminded him of how she spoke about the woods in her hometown, how she somehow always ended up back there when things started to get particularly rough.

"What if this thing doesn't lead me to her?" Hook said, touching the cold metal exterior with his free hand. "What if I can't find her?"

Smee stopped scratching on the paper as he looked up, the corner of his mouth pulling into a small smile. "Maybe it means she's your greatest strength."

The pirate sighed. "I just want to know that she's safe, that she's out of the Dark One's clutches."

"I-"

Just as Smee was about to reply an arrow flew out towards him, narrowly missing his arm and catching on his sleeve, pinning it to the tree he was leaning on. As he panicked and tried rip himself free, Hook immediately drew his sword and took a crouching stance, half hiding behind a nearby tree and scanning the forest ahead of him.

At first, he could see nothing but the usual rustle from leaves and wildlife, hearing only the rapid panting of Smee as he finally yanked himself free and clumsily drew his sword. They waited for what seemed like the longest time, shoulders heaving with heavy breaths as they tried to compose themselves from the sudden attack. When a long enough time had passed, Hook had barely peered out from the side of a tree when another arrow shot past.

"Show yourself!" Hook yelled, taking a deep breath as he swung himself out of his hiding place, despite Smee's wide eyes and rapid shaking of his head. "Face me like a man, you coward."

Hook's eyes kept flickering around the overgrowth, searching for any sign of movement. Eventually, he spotted a dark, hooded figure emerging from the trees. Their bow was outstretched and aiming towards them, prepared to fire at an instant. It was only when their aggressor tilted their head backwards to let his hood fall, revealing his face as he took his stance at the edge of the clearing, that Hook realised it was a man.

"Who are you?" The man called out, adjusting his aim ever so slightly towards Hook's chest.

"I'm a bloody pirate, mate - an angry one." Hook yelled. "And just who do you think you are?"

When the man opened his mouth to answer, arrows suddenly started falling down from the leafy roof of the forest. The men all dodged out of the way as they all hit the ground at different angles. Hook noticed this grimly, figuring out that whatever group was after them had them surrounded. He was about to yell at Smee to start running when the man they encountered suddenly tackled Hook to one side, just as another arrow flew past and embedded itself in the tree.

"I'm Robin Hood," he said. His face was flushed and slightly out of breath, but there was a smile that stretched right across it. "And this is what you would call an ambush."


	11. Chapter 11

Emma breathed a sigh of relief as soon as she entered Graham's apartment and closed the door behind her. It was a little smaller than she was initially expecting, but the place looked comfortable and welcoming.

It was fairly open plan. To her left was a small kitchen, just big enough for a cooker, fridge, and a small island with two seats. Further down on the left was a table with four chairs, with one seat slightly askew in front of an empty mug and bowl. There was a sofa and tv set to the right of it, which is where Emma placed her bag while she took one of the longest showers in her adult life.

She was sitting there staring at the ring with damp hair when Graham came in. As he turned to shut the door, she shoved it into her pocket and smiled.

"Thanks again for letting me stay," she said as he yawned. "Long day?"

He smirked as he headed towards the kitchen. "You don't know the half of it."

"Fancy a drink? I'm afraid I haven't got a lot of options in for the beverage department, but I'm sure there'll be something to tickle your fancy." Graham quickly opening and closing cupboards. "There's water, coffee, hot chocolate, and some scotch."

"Hot chocolate is fine, thanks." Emma said, feeling her heartbeat pick up as she turned to face him. She felt guilty for bringing it up so soon after he had finished work, but she couldn't wait any longer, and she couldn't risk him falling asleep on her before she found out. "So, what's the deal with Hoo- - Killian?"

Graham paused, frowning as he started boiling the water. "What do you mean?"

"Why is everyone so afraid of him?"

As Graham turned around, Emma noted just how tired and worn out he looked. His hair hang limp over his forehead, brushing just past his eyebrows. His eyes could be easily mistaken for tunnels with how dark his circles were, and how brooding his gaze was. His unkempt beard almost matched the lack of tie and creased shirt he was wearing. Even when he thought he was going crazy, he hadn't let himself get to this point.

"You know how the carrot and stick approach works, right?" He asked.

Sheshook her head, confused.

"Okay, let me explain it to you." Graham walked over to the sofa and sat down next to Emma, speaking in hushed tones. "There's a cart driver and a mule. If he wants to make it to the market on time, the mule has to go faster. If the mule speeds up, the driver will give him a carrot. If the mule slows down, the driver will jab him with the stick."

"Okay," Emma said slowly. "But what has this got to do with this?"

"Bear with me. Regina is the Mayor, so she's the cart driver who decides where to go and what happens to the rest of us, who are-"

"Mules."

Graham smirked. "Right. Me and the rest of the law enforcers on the City Council are the carrots, offering them rewards or another way out if they chose to comply with us. This leaves us with the stick for punishing those who step out of line, which in Killian's case, is more like a dagger."

As he finished, the kettle began squealing loudly, causing Graham to quickly hop up from the couch to take it off the heat. In the time between her flatmate making the hot chocolate and placing it down in front of her, a dozen thoughts had already spun through her head. Yet the most important one was left unanswered.

How did Killian turn into someone everyone feared?

When Emma traced back through her memories to her first encounters with Killian, when he was an 'evil' pirate looking for revenge, he was never completely the bad guy. Sure, his thirst for revenge against his crocodile almost led to her and Snow being abandoned in the Enchanted Forest, but he had a good heart. Unlike many 'villains' she'd faced over the years, Killian had had one thing that the others lacked: a guilty conscious over his actions. This new Killian seemed brutal.

Graham sighed as he sunk into the couch the next to her. "You'll be best to keep your distance from him, Miss Swan. Killian's temper may be fickle, but hell hath no fury like a Regina scorned."

"What does that mean?" Emma asked, taking a sip from her drink.

Graham hesitated. "Have you heard of a woman named Kathryn Nolan?"

"Yes," Emma said slowly.

"Our dear old Killian liked to visit her some evenings. After some time, Kathryn wanted to call it off and start seeing other people. They were at The Rabbit Hole at the time and Killian had had a little too much drink, he threw a few-" Graham shook his head "-he threw a lot of punches when the bartender and a few locals told him to calm down. He had started getting a bit handsy, and started making a bit of a scene when Katherine said no."

"That doesn't sound like Killian," Emma said immediately, shocked. Then she remembered that this wasn't her Killian and tried to quickly correct herself. "I mean, what happened to respect and boundaries?"

"Not everyone is a gentleman, Emma." He said sadly. "When the news reached the local paper, Regina was furious. She dug up some illicit documents relating to Katherine and had her evicted from her home. People think that she moved to the opposite end of town, but no-one has really heard from her since."

Emma's head was swimming as she tried to make sense of it all. "Why would Regina get involved?"

"You don't know?" Graham asked, surprised. "Her and Killian have a thing."

She almost laughed in disbelief when the words left Graham's mouth. Although a pirate and an Evil Queen being together wasn't completely illogical, it still left a sour taste in her mouth. If they were together and Killian and further explored his darker side in this reality, she could only imagine that those two would bring out the worst in each other when together.

She could only hope that they didn't ever show that around Henry.

"Anyway, enough of that," Graham said chirpily, grasping his mug with both hands. "Tell me more about yourself - the real Emma Swan. Where are you from?"

For the first time since Emma opened her eyes back in New York, Emma began to feel happy as Graham unwittingly distracted her from her daily struggle of trying to find a way back to her original timeline. They sat talking for hours after their drinks had emptied, with Emma telling Graham all of her funny anecdotes and unfortunate mishaps as a bail bondsman, and Graham catching her up on all of the stories that Storybrooke had to offer from some of their more colourful inhabitants.

Their conversation trailed off into the early hours of the morning, only ending when Emma dozed off in the middle of Graham showing her the latest nature documentary that made him wish he had a career change. When he finally noticed her agreeable murmurs becoming quieter and less cohesive, he pulled his favourite blanket out of storage and draped it over an exhausted Emma before his next early shift.

* * *

"So, where did you go yesterday?" Henry asked, scooping up a bit of ice-cream up with his spoon. "What happened with your idea?"

"I-" Emma hesitated, wondering how much of her staying at Graham's was appropriate to tell Henry. Considering that they were just friends, she opted for the truthful option. "I stayed over at Graham's. He's letting me sleep on his couch so that I don't have to break my neck in my car every night."

"Okay." Henry said, surprising Emma with the mild response. "And what about your idea?"

Emma sighed and dug a spoon into Henry's ice-cream. "Still in progress."

"What do you have so far?"

Emma quickly glanced around Granny's before reaching into her pocket and pulling out the twisted gold band, showing it to Henry. They both stared at it in silence for a while, listening only to the background chatter of regular patrons and the occasional ring of the doorbell.

It wasn't long before Henry admitted defeat and asked Emma what it was, not recognising it from anywhere.

"This is the engagement ring that Daniel gave to your mother," Emma said in hushed voice. "In my Storybrooke, Regina told me that she would look through it and see his face – it was her only last connection to him, especially as it was possibly one of the only enchanted objects in a land without magic. However, she used it to create a tiny portal to grab the apple that poisoned Snow, then made it into a dreadful apple dessert. The only that was meant for me, but almost ended up killing you."

The boy nodded slowly. "And you think it still might have some magic in it now?"

"I'm not sure." Emma admitted, slipping the ring back into her pocket. "If Regina still treasured Daniel like she did, she'd have never let it get tossed into a school jumble sale to save the building that she's trying to get closed. It especially wouldn't be there if she knew it contained magic. The Curse hasn't been broken yet, so she mustn't have many sources of power here."

"So why did you keep it?" Henry asked.

"I don't know." Emma cocked her head to one side and smiled at her son. "I guess some part of me wants a reminder that Regina isn't truly evil when she comes at me again. Or maybe I'm just clinging to the shred of hope that it still might contain some magic that can help get me home."

"We'll get you back home," said Henry. "One way or another, the heroes always win."

Emma laughed and ruffled his hair, much to the boy's repulsion. She tried to seek comfort in his words, but there was something about what he said that was playing on her mind. After a moment's thought, she took off her own necklace with the swan pendant and slipped Regina's ring onto it.

"Here, kid." Emma leaned over the table and fixed the necklace around his neck. "Keep these safe for me."

The boy looked down at them in confusion, picking up and inspecting each one. "Why? Wouldn't they be safer with you? I'm the one who lost the storybook."

"There's no-one that I trust more than you, Henry." Emma said softly, briefly cupping his face with her hand. "And I'm not asking you to keep hold of them just because the ring might contain some magic."

"Then why are you giving it to me?"

"To remind you that both of your mom's are trying their best to be your hero," she explained, staring sadly at the necklace. "She might not be on our side now, but she will fight fiercely to keep her family safe, no matter what the cost. So whenever she does something to try to throw us off of our plan, remember that there is still some good in her. There's proof of that in the other Storybrooke, anyway."

When Henry nodded at her with solemn eyes, she was in awe all over again about how such a mature head could sit comfortably on his tiny shoulders.

"Where did you get this one?" He asked after some time, picking up the silver swan pendant.

In that moment, it was as if Emma had been sucked through another icy portal and was 18 again. Instead of sitting in a booth at a diner, she was back in her 1969 Volkswagon Beetle and riding on the adrenaline high from making a successful pregnancy store scam. She looked over at Neal with stars in her eyes, who was handing her the swan keychain she had just been admiring moments earlier. The way he looked at her made her wonder why she had ever wanted to be anywhere else but that rusty, old car with the first man who showed her just how full her heart could feel.

She blinked and she was back in Neal's apartment in New York. She was kneeling, holding Henry's face in her hands as she told him that she had lied about who his father is and watched the hurt of betrayal spread across his face, seeing his trust in her seal off in his eyes like a metal vault slamming shut. She could practically hear Neal's heartbeat pounding a dozen times a second as he realised what 11 years of absence and ignorance looked like.

When she found herself holding him as he took his last breaths and then shoveling dirt onto his grave with their son, she knew something had to change. Even if it meant nothing when she returned to her Storybrooke, she couldn't let history repeat itself here; she had a chance to make things right.

"Your father gave me this," she murmured, her voice thick. "Many, many years ago."

"Who was he?" Henry asked quietly, aware of Emma's distress but unable to completely contain his nervous energy.

"Neal Cassidy."

Emma couldn't help but chuckle as he frowned, almost seeing the cogs whirring around in his head. When it finally clicked, and he had matched the name with the fairytale character that Emma had told him about on her first night to this Storybrooke, his face shone as he sat up straighter in his chair. At this point, she was glad that she neglected to add the detail that Neal died in her timeline.

"You mean Baelfire?" He asked excitedly, scanning Emma's face for a giveaway answer. "Rumplestiltskin's son, the one who you tracked down in New York?"

"I can see where this is going," Emma said, rolling her eyes fondly.

"Can we go see him?" Henry pleaded, leaning forwards on the table with his forearms. "He was here before the Curse, right? He might be able to help us get you back, and I could meet him at the same time. It's foolproof!"

"You're forgetting one thing," Emma warned, remembering what Graham said last night. "Regina is never going to let me take you to Boston, and I don't feel like double crossing her."

"Then we'll go right now."

"Kid-"

"Please, Emma." Henry interrupted, looking up at her with big eyes. "He's my dad, I just want to meet him."

Emma sighed, briefly weighing up her options. On one hand she could say no, which would have no effect on Regina's consistent battle with her whilst making her son – and only ally – upset with her. On the other hand she could say yes, resulting in a very happy son, a very confused new parent, and one very pissed off witch. She tried having a reasonable debate about it in her head, but her heart knew that there was only one true option that she had – even if it meant breaking her heart and diving into hell all over again.

"Okay," she said eventually, "let's go meet your dad."

A toothy grin erupted on Henry's face spanning from ear to ear. "When can we go?"

Emma checked her watch.

"Now." Emma stood up and picked up her coat, feeling the thrill of that rebellious adrenaline rush creeping up on her. "If we're quick, we can get you back home for bedtime."

* * *

After seeing Sidney's images of Emma leaving Graham's apartment earlier that day, Killian lashed his phone against the bed and ran his hands through his hair, letting out a frustrated grunt as he sat down heavily on the mattress. He tore off his jacket and threw it against the wall, landing on the floor with a soft thump. He moved onto his shirt buttons, only managing to fumble a few of them open before deeply sighing and resting his head in his hands.

There was something about her that made him lose his mind and find it whole again, all within the same instant. It was as if her eyes were tethered to his heartbeat, and every glance that she spared in his direction pulled on that connection and gave it life, reminding him what it was like to be truly alive. It was in moments like that that he both doubted and revelled every step he had taken to get to this point: it meant that he could finally see her once again, but what would she think of the man that looked back?

"Killian," Regina murmured from the doorway, prowling forward and sitting gently beside him. "Talk to me."

He sat up and sighed, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. "I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?" Regina said, placing a hand on his back.

"This, Regina." Killian blurted, standing to get away from her touch. "I can't keep this up, not when she's here."

Even though it felt like Regina's eyes could bore a hole through his head the moment he let the words slip from his mouth, they both kept silent. A wave of anguish washed over Regina as she realised just how much trouble Miss Swan was proving to be: taking her son, alienating Killian, and – discovered thanks to Henry's storybook – the Saviour to the Dark Curse she had spent years trying to get. Her seemingly perfect life was unravelling more and more each day, and it was all because of _her_.

"She's alone, you know?" Killian said quietly, interrupting her thoughts. "I've see perils of abandonment in a dozen young eyes before hers. It's something you can't quite shake, no matter how many people you have in your life."

After a few moments of thought, Regina stood up and closed the gap between them. She placed a hand on his chest at first, feeling his heartbeat through the thin fabric of his shirt. She then trailed her hand up to his cheek, lifting his face so that he met her gaze. She poured all of the compassion she could into that look, before leaning closer and whispering: "How can you help her if you're not willing to help yourself?"

With that, she gently pressed her lips against his and closed the door to the room with a small kick.

 **AN:** **_SailorMew4_ and _Littlest1_** **I've missed Robin! _Emilee Amethyst_ Thank you, I look forward to writing more :)** **_Kiwistreetswan_ Yeah, I wish we saw more of him. &I wasn't sure about the gauntlet and have done research/ began watching the show again. I've hazed over details and believe I may have made a boo boo somewhere, but hopefully it ties together and will make sense in the next chapters!**


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